Comfortable Liar
by TypokweenAndJustlikebrooke
Summary: There are no happy endings, only twisted, tangled webs that wrap around hearts and squeeze until they burst. NBL-triangle
1. Prologue

**Title: **Comfortable Liar  
**Author:** Justlikebrooke (Lynn) & Typokween (Elena)  
**Pairing:** Wouldn't you like to know...  
**Summary:** There are no happy endings, only twisted, tangled webs that wrap around hearts and squeeze until they burst. **NBL-triangle**.  
**Rating:** TEEN/ADULT; Language, Adult Content  
**Disclaimer: **We own not a thing but our own imaginations and a shitload of awesomeness. Mark can have his crappy show, we just want to borrow the characters and cast them in the light they deserve. So remember this while you scan through our words: It's our world in here—you're just reading it. So please refrain from flaming us because this is all strictly alternate universe.  
**Special Thanks: **To all who had a sneak peak and helped us through this. I (Typokween) would like to thank Lynn (justlikebrooke) for being the most awesome co-writer/friend ever. You are the Rachel to my Brooke/Brooke to my Rachel! Haha. ;) And I (Lynn) couldn't agree more. You (Typokween) are the best Brooke/Rachel a girl can have! 3

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---x---

Prologue

_**Senior Year**_

_**June 3**__**rd**__** 2008**_

This is not the first time they've been in a position like this. Two bodies trapped in a dark, closed and confined space with barely enough room to breathe. They'd been in closets bigger, smaller and equal to the one they're in now. He can hear her breathing and smell the cranberry and vodka on her breath.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," she says. "It's only a game." Her hand moves in the dark to press against his chest, "Nathan?"

"It's not that," he growls out angrily. "It's… _her_, this is so typical of her. Put her boyfriend in a closet with her best friend. Fucking classic Peyton Sawyer."

She nods even though she knows he can't see her. "I think she's on to us," she whispers and pushes him against the wall by pressing her body against his. "The jig is up," her mouth hovers over his. "How do you want this to play out?"

He shudders under her hold and tries to suppress his animal urges to rip her clothes off and screw her brains out. She's Brooke Davis after all, she's hot and popular and she's willing. Right?

He clenches his eyes shut and gasps for air when her hand moves to his zipper. "Brooke…" He mutters.

She chuckles deep within her throat and moves her mouth to his ear, "We only have six minutes left of this heaven Nathan, do you really want to waste it talking about your girlfriend?" She breathes in his ear, laughing seductively when she feels him shiver lustfully.

"You know I'm only with her for appearances." He says placing his hands on her hips. "Besides, she used to be your best friend," he reminds her.

"She also tried to steal my boyfriend." Brooke hisses.

"So that's what this is about then?" Nathan grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her away angry, "You want revenge?" He snorts, "Figures."

Brooke rolls her eyes in the dark and shoves him back against the wall again, "What I _want_ right now Nathan… is you." She slides her fingernails up the back of his shirt and rubs the side of her face against his like a cat. "You know you want me Scott… you _never _say no." She chuckles deep within the back of her throat. A trait she knows drives him wild with lust.

"_Fuck_," he hisses through clenched teeth when her hand cups him firmly over his jeans. "Brooke, we can't."

"Says who? It's not like anyone would hold it against us Nate. It was _Peyton's_ idea." She whispers against his lips. She waits until he exhales and brings his lips to hers before she jumps up into his arms and loses herself in him.

He smells wonderful, his cologne is intoxicating.

"How long has it been since you and I…" she pauses to let the sentence linger on and answer itself.

He slips his hands over her bottom and groans inwardly from the feel of her small frame against his much larger one. He nearly loses his balance when she begins to rub herself against him so closely and he can feel the heat radiating off of her. And he tries to remind himself that this is wrong. Brooke is with Lucas and he is supposedly with Peyton. However this hadn't stopped Peyton from shoving them both into the closet they were in now. It didn't stop her from trying to fuck his half-brother Lucas while they were on a break a few months ago. Brooke was right, this was Peyton's idea.

"You sure you wanna go down this road again, B?" he replies through a mocking leer. "I thought you wanted to go on the straight and arrow. You know, let Lucas _cure _you," he leans in to whisper into her ear, "you're straying off course, baby."

The warm breath on her ear slides down to the nape of her neck and instinctively she lets her head fall back on her shoulders. But when she feels his hot tongue flick out and lap at her skin, she jumps back remembering where she is and what he's doing.

"Careful Nathan, your envy is showing," she ends up snapping before she pushes off him.

Nathan scoffs at the ridiculous idea of being jealous of Lucas. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Too bad you forgot that I've been there, done that." He slinks his fingers into her hair to cradle the back of her skull. "If I really wanted it, I'd take it," he growls.

Fire ignites behind her lashes and burns in the dark so fiery he can feel her gaze rather than see it. He's pressed a button that hasn't been tampered with in quite some time. He's almost not even sure he knows what to do now, because it feels like forever since he's last been this close to her.

"What do you want Davis?" he replies ducking is head down until he feels her nose brush his.

Trying to push past the unexplained anger she feels she snaps, "Stop being melodramatic and kiss me," and makes sure to breathe her words into his mouth.

But her methods are rusty.

"What. Do. You. _Want_. Brooke Davis." He hisses into her face.

She blinks into the darkness and hates that she cant see his face clearly. She wants to see his expression. She wants to read his body language and read him so that she knows what to do next. Has it really been that long since they played this game?

"Answer me," he growls through gritted teeth and tightens his fingers on her forearms.

Grimacing in pain she shakes her head and whispers softly, "I don't know."

"That's not good enough," he whips his head back and forth in the negative, growing more mad by the second. "What the fuck do you want from me Brooke? What do you want!" Nathan shouts out fiercely.

"I don't know!" She ends up screaming back into his face.

Then a deafening silence grows between them, so intense that they both wonder if the other is even breathing. In the darkness all they have to bank on is their sense of hearing, because _sight_ is out of the question. _Touch _is too risky and _taste _is not even an option.

He's never been a guy with all the words. He's not his brother, Lucas. Nathan's idea of an intelligent conversation is discussing Sports Center highlights. Or swapping different Xbox game techniques and cheat codes.

"I need way more time than seven minutes Davis," he says in way of trying to lighten the intensity of the moment. "But you already know that," he smirks.

"Don't cheapen the mood now _lover_, you were doing so well." Her tone is sharp and furious. Just the way he likes it. Or maybe the way he _used_ to like it.

"How long are you going to fuck with me like this, huh? Because the games are getting old Brooke," he chastises her like a disobedient child.

"Fuck you," she mutters unsteadily.

"Too easy," he scoffs and she scowls in return. He feels her move away from him towards the door and stops her. "Where do you think you're going?" he asks confused.

She slaps his hands away and tries to ignore the surprise ball in her throat. She swallows it whole and tells herself that tears are for the weak. And Brooke is _not _weak.

"This is stupid. I don't want to play anymore," she hugs her arms around herself. "I want to go find Lucas."

Nathan feels the bile creep up his throat after hearing her say his brother's name with lips he once used to savor like a fine wine. "You've been avoiding me for weeks," he grows bold and calls her on their recent issue. "I know he doesn't do it for you, Davis." He chuckles and glides a hand down her side. "Not the way I do."

"Don't," she almost cries.

Frustrated he drops his hand, "You know where I stand, Brooke. Stop leaving me hanging. _Tell _me what you fucking want!"

"I told you I don't know!" She cries out aggravated from their conversation. "Why do you even care? I'm nothing more than a good fuck. Rode hard and put away wet. At least Lucas listens to me!"

"He doesn't even _know _you!" Nathan roars with wide scathing eyes. "_I_ know you! _I _listen to you! Even when you don't utter a single fucking word I hear you. And do you know why? Do you have _any _idea why?"

"Why?"

Her voice is rising and he laughs back in her face. "You're_ seriously _asking me that?"

"Yes! _Why?!_" she shrieks.

"Because I fucking _love you!_" He howls out in agony.

---x---

"Five… four… three… two… one!" She claps her hands and glances down at her watch just before flinging open the closet door.

"_Because I fucking love you!"_

Peyton's face instantly falls into a mask of devastation.

Lucas walks into the room just then and wonders why everyone is suddenly so quiet. His eyes follow in the direction of everyone else and he's surprised to see Brooke and Nathan facing off from the inside of a closet. He frowns and pushes past a guy in his history class to bring himself closer to his girlfriend.

"Brooke?" He says and suddenly everyone's attention is now on him.

She gulps down any emotion she has and steps out of the closet, avoiding eye contact with Peyton. She's two steps out the door before Nathan is pulling her backwards towards him.

"Where are you going?" He asks in disbelief. "Did you not hear what I just told you?"

"Don't do this," she whispers to him and shakes her head. Her gaze darts towards Lucas and she turns back to beg Nathan with her eyes. "Please don't do this," she prays.

Nathan drops her wrist in complete shock and backs away from her dumbfounded.

"Brooke?" Lucas says again feelings more than confused.

"Take me home Lucas," she tells him and takes the hand he holds out for her.

Nathan watches them leave and fights the urge to chase after her. How could she just walk away from him like this? Had the last few months meant absolutely nothing to her? He scowls at anyone looking in his direction and everyone turns their faces quickly to engage themselves in other matters.

Peyton stares back at Nathan with hurt in her eyes and shakes her head. "Did you ever care about me at all?" she asks and strangely enough he feels cold.

Not a bit of regret or guilt plagues him when he says, "Trust me Peyton," and sighs, "you shoved us into that closet long before tonight."

Peyton keeps looking at him but his own eyes are still glued to the door where Brooke and Lucas just left. He fights the urge to chase after her and the question keeps looping in his head;

_She can't still love Lucas, right? She would come back any second, wouldn't she?_

Everyone starts to leave the room but Peyton stands rooted in front of the closet and shakes her head. "I never told you to go for my _best_ friend," she says. "And if you loved me you _never_ would have done that."

He wants to say that he loved her once, but frankly he's not really sure. And instead of waiting for his answer she continues; "How could you do this to me? I thought we were good now!"

The sound of her cracking voice doesn't hurt him the least though. It's all a façade, from her side as well, and he simply shakes his head in response.

"No you didn't. You knew we were done long ago. And trust me Peyton. This entire situation was inevitable. You've forced us together from the beginning. So how can you stand there and look so surprised?"

He brushes past her and heads straight for the front door. He can hear her dissolve in fake sobs but he doesn't turn. They had all made their choices over two years ago, Peyton Sawyer included.

Now, it was probably about time that they started to deal with the consequences…

---x---


	2. My Depth Perception Must Be Off Again

Author's note: Hi all! We're back. The last chapter was a prologue and now we're going back in time to where it all started. Thank you's at the bottom. Love/Elena & Lynn

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**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 1:** My Depth Perception Must Be Off Again

_**Sophomore Year**_

_April 23__rd__ 2006_

It's been a hell of a day, Brooke thinks as she swings her feet over the concrete edge and sits down next to Peyton under the Summerset bridge. This is their place, the place they've always come to when they needed some time away from the rest of Tree Hill. The place where they can really be themselves without having to worry about facades or social manipulation. But lately it's just not the same.

"Hey girl," she mumbles softly settling in beside her longtime friend. "What's wrong?" she asks once getting a closer look at her comrades face, "Have you been crying?"

It's a dumb question really, she thinks to herself, because Peyton's eyes are clearly red and tearful and she's still sniffling a little. But her blond friend just shrugs without turning to glance at her once.

"Yeah. Life sucks, haven't you heard?"

Honestly she's a little tired of the emo side of Peyton that's been rearing it's ugly head more and more lately. She longs to just tell her best friend to put a sock in it, suck it up and move on. Just keep on, keeping on.

But she doesn't, and the reason she doesn't is because Peyton is her family. No reason to ruffle feathers. So just as she always does, she stays silent and simply puts a comforting hand on her shoulder instead.

"Is it your mom? Are you thinking about her?"

It's meant as a door-opener. To make sure that Peyton knows that it's okay to be sad, even though its been almost six years since Anna Sawyer passed away. But instead of opening up or taking the silent offer of a shoulder to cry on, her childhood best friend turns around and glares at her.

"I think about my mom every fucking day and you know it. Why should today be any different? Huh?" Peyton's tone is bitter as she snorts, "She's dead Brooke! How much worse than that can it get?!"

The outburst shocks her but it isn't the first time. It's been like this for weeks now and Brooke usually just takes what ever crap Peyton dishes out at her with a smile. But today she came here for reasons of her own, and it hurts that Peyton can't see that her eyes are red-rimmed, too.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles and kicks her legs back and forth over the edge like a child. "I know how you feel, Peyt," she sighs and tilts her head up towards the darkening sky above them before taking a deep breath, "I know you miss her," she starts out slowly, "I was just trying to—"

She doesn't get another word out because Peyton cuts her off with a condescending chuckle.

"You _know_?" she scoffs resentfully, "How the hell can you know, Brooke? Your mom is alive and well and you have nothing to complain about. You live in your big ass house with servants that obey your every wish. How the fuck could you even begin to understand how I feel? God!"

In seconds Peyton is up on her feet and Brooke just sits there, completely dumbstruck. It hurts like a stab-wound in her chest, yet she doesn't yell back or even flinch.

"Peyton, don't say that… I was just trying to make you feel better… I miss Anna too…"

The birds around them keep singing as if there is nothing wrong and the late evening sun warms their necks, but she feels as if a shadow is over her. Peyton isn't supposed to be like this. It used to be them against the world. "Look, Anna was like my mom too, Peyt," she mumbles with an almost begging voice that she doesn't recognize. "I might not _know_ how you feel, but I…"

"Shut up!"

For the second time Peyton interrupts her and her blonde friend looks furious.

"You're so self centered Brooke! She was MY mom. She's dead and I have no one!"

Then Peyton starts walking away, already sobbing in a mix of anger and self-inflicted anguish. She wants to run after her friend and tell her that they should start over. That she's too sad to fight tonight. But somehow the words get stuck in her throat.

"I have lost my _mom_!" Peyton bellows on her way up the hill. "And you come here as if nothing has happened! I _know_ that there's a party at Nathan's, and I know that I'm late, but can't you just go alone for once!?"

Sighing, Brooke watches as Peyton keeps climbing the grass covered hill. She didn't even remember the party and she closes her eyes and pushes back tears. In the six years that's passed since Anna's car accident she's never once told Peyton to move on and its not on her agenda tonight either. She just came to cry in peace…

Frankly she didn't even know that Peyton was going to be here, she hadn't expected anything but privacy. Peyton is wrong, Brooke frowns to herself, because Peyton has _a lot _of people. She has her dad, a guy that would do anything for his daughter, and she has Nathan, who even though he's a crappy boyfriend is still there for her.

Most of all she wants to say that Peyton at least has one constant, and that she always will, no matter what.

"Hey Peyt!" she calls after the blonde, with a burning ball of tears in her chest. "You have me, you know…"

Peyton turns and smiles coldly. "Yeah? Well, if I want a drinking-buddy or an advice about how to score guys, I'll call you. Until then, just leave me alone!"

Then her friend storms out of there and she stays seated under the bridge. It's a beautiful evening but she doesn't really notice, because she can't stop thinking about the fact that without Peyton, she doesn't have anyone.

It's the sad but honest truth; Peyton is the only family she's got.

---x---

Tim is a freaking dimwit sometimes but he's a great sidekick when it comes to partying. Who else would hold his drink and cheer him on while he's doing body-shots out of Bevin's belly-button? Well Peyton wouldn't, that's for sure, because tonight his girlfriend is even more of a shrew than usual.

She'd not only walked into his party a full three hours late, but she brought along an equally annoying attitude with her.

Nathan sucks the last shot up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while Bevin giggles; "I think the lime is somewhere in my shirt."

"I'll get it later," he slurs and stumbling a little he gets up and gets his drink from Tim. Then he sees Peyton and walks over to make out with her some before heading into the kitchen to get a refill.

"Hey… Baby come here…"

He pulls her in for a kiss and he's almost surprised to feel her respond to it for a short moment, but then she shoves him back and makes a disgusted face.

"Eww! Why don't you just spit in my mouth next time? It'd be sexier!"

"Hey! What is your problem?"

"You mean why won't I let you mount me in front of the entire basketball team when you've already made out with the entire cheerleading squad?"

"Yeah… pretty much…"

He hates it when she's in this mood. When Peyton has these moody spells anything can happen. There might be tears and yelling, the occasional throwing of a lamp or a shoe, but one thing is for sure. When Peyton Sawyer is 'emotional' like tonight, she always ends up with the conclusion that _he's_ done something wrong.

"I am so sick of this!" she yells, now loudly enough to make people turn and watch. "All you care about is getting drunk and having sex!"

He sighs and rolls his eyes. "You left out basketball…"

Not to say that he's some sort of angel. No, he does his fair share of shit. But lately Peyton seems to be on his case if he just as much as moves or breathes, and tonight certainly isn't any different. Actually it's worse than usual. He's sick and tired of it all and the nonchalant expression on his face just seems to make Peyton's anger heat up even more.

"No, I left out that you're an inconsiderate bastard and that we're _through_!"

"For ten minutes this time or until tomorrow?" he asks and glances at his watch. "I need to know how to plan my night."

This shit is getting old. His girlfriend does this practically at every party. Last weekend she broke up with him twice, and then there was the time in Biology last Wednesday. This time though, she actually looks serious.

"How does forever work?" she hisses. "Now you can go screw whatever _skank_ you want… Maybe you should go do Brooke. You two seem to have a lot in common!"

The surprise of Peyton actually dumping him is wearing off and now he's starting to get pissed. Not that he cares but it's pretty cruel to point out her own best friend as the party whore when Brooke is standing just a feet away.

"Get off my case Peyton…" he mumbles and his voice lowers warningly. "You're starting to sound like a broken record. And what's Brooke done to you tonight, huh?"

She doesn't answer though. She just storms out of the room pissed off as hell and for a second his eyes meet Brooke's across the room. The brunette cheerleader looks far from cheery but it's not his problem. All he wants is to get smashed and avoid Peyton for the rest of the evening.

"Forget you then…" he mutters to Peyton's disappearing back. "You're the one that will come back begging."

Then he grabs and practically downs half a bottle of his parents Gin. It tastes like shit, but it works wonders. Five minutes later Peyton is just a slight itch in his subconscious.

---x---

"Nathan is an ass! I'm taking off," Peyton scoffs and leans against the wall next to where Brooke is standing with Vegas and Fede. "Are you coming?"

It's funny how her blonde _best_ friend seems to have already forgotten that the last time she said something to her directly was under the bridge, and that hadn't been a particularly chummy conversation.

Or the fact that just a few short minutes ago she had publically propositioned Brooke off to her own boyfriend.

"Peyton…" she ignores these fact and sighs as she tips half the liquid contents in the plastic cup into her mouth. "We left the last party because of you and Nathan fighting... Just let it go…"

In an effort to pamper Peyton and cater to her constant whining she reaches down and links her hand with the blonde's. She just wants to get drunk and not think. She wants to drown the entire day, the fight with Peyton included, but Peyton isn't exactly making it easy.

"This isn't just any fight" she spits sharply. "We broke up. For _good_."

Likely? Not really.

"Yeah, that's why we left the party before the last party," she mutters back and rolls her eyes. Vegas laughs and she winks at him. But Peyton interrupts and pulls her arm.

"And its why I'm leaving this party now. _Come on_."

Honestly she's not even sure why but she pulls back on Peyton's hand and says, "Don't go." For some reason, even after Peyton's misdirected insults earlier in the kitchen, she still wants Peyton to stay.

So she smiles at her friend and kinks her brow. "I have a cure for you," she says cutely and points to two passing boys from the team. "Just take two of _those_ and thank me in the morning."

There.

But Peyton just looks back at her condescendingly.

"Brooke, I'm not gonna hook up with some random guy," she snickers. "I'm not _you_."

"Wow…"

For a second she's actually shocked. She's used to Peyton's bitchy demeanor but tonight the blonde seems to be in complete lack of scruples. She downs the rest of her drink and grabs the new cup that Vegas hands her, and she might be drunk, but if she's not mistaking then this is the second time tonight that Peyton has come straight out and called her a whore.

"Well I'm _staying,_" she says and sips the new drink, and when she feels Peyton glaring at her she turns and smirks, "'Cause _I'm_ not _you_."

---x---

Its midnight when Nathan slumps down next to Brooke on a couch and sighs. The night isn't exactly going his way and all he knows is that he's both irritated and horny, without any chance of getting laid. Peyton could go to hell. If she wanted to play the dumping game, then he sure wouldn't take her back tomorrow when she came crying and begging.

He takes a big gulp of his beer and wonders why the hell he's was even still dating the curly blonde. They haven't been good for weeks…

A hiccup and then the simple phrase; "I'm drunk," comes from the girl beside him. And he answers with an equally detached, "Peyton dumped me," shortly followed by a sour grimace.

"Yeah, I heard that," she nods.

For a second they both go back to their drinks before Brooke looks up at him with the strangest expression on her face, and suddenly he's very aware of how close she is to him. Their bodies are practically pressed together on the tiny couch and her naked thigh feels hot against his jeans-clad one. What was it that Peyton said?

"_Maybe you should go do Brooke. You two seem to have a lot in common!"_

Another sip from his plastic cup and he wonders if it's his drunken brain that plays tricks on him. Why hasn't he ever had Brooke? Because of Peyton? He _had_ after all known Brooke first…

He scans her slowly and he finds the same drunk and lustful look in her eyes as in his own. The same… no fuck it, this wasn't the time for some cheesy soul-searching.

She licks her lips and grabs a new plastic cup full of alcohol. Then she looks up towards the stairs.

"Come on…" she says huskily. "Let's take this party upstairs…"

And there's not even a seconds hesitation before he follows.

The kisses are rough and rushed even before they reach the second floor and when they break apart in the doorway to his bedroom to empty their drinks, Brooke mumbles, "So, you guys really broke up?"

"Yeah, you wanna have another drink?"

It's meant as a way to keep her mind off of his blonde ex. He doesn't want another drink, he just wants to go back to kissing that plump and willing mouth of hers. He's heard the locker room stories about Brooke Davis and now he can't help but look forward to experiencing them first hand. He knows it'll take some convincing, she's after all Peyton's best friend. But just as he gets ready to start buttering her up, she simply throws her plastic cup to the side and pulls her top over her head.

"No," she says and throws the top on the floor next to the cup, and he stands still staring.

"Wow, never mind… I guess we're good…"

Apparently this was going to be easier than he thought. His intoxicated brain has trouble following the events but he's sure of one thing. Brooke Davis is sexy as hell and when she's half naked in that pink bra and he just wants to…

He just wants to _grab_ her. Grab her and… god!

He walks her backwards and they fall into a heap of limbs on the bed. He crashes his lips onto hers and tastes the liquor on her tongue. All the while he can't help thinking that this is the perfect drunken hook-up. And then he remembers the tripod cam.

He pushes himself up again and with a smirk he turns to start the cam-corder. Brooke moves on the bed behind him, giggling out a drunken "What are you doing?" and his crooked smile grows even more mischievous.

"Oh, I'm just having a little fun…Don't worry about it, Brooke."

She's not stupid though, she knows what he's planning and even with the reputation she carries, he's a little surprised that she doesn't stop him. He turns back and crawls up onto her again, and as he starts covering her cleavage in wet kisses, he can hear her mumble, "Just promise you'll erase it?"

"Done."

They kiss for a moment more and his hand travels her inner thigh higher and higher. Just when he's about to reach his goal, she softly pushes him away.

"Hold on…" she stutters. "God, I can't believe I'm doing this Nathan… I would _die_ if anyone ever saw this."

She looks nervous, a facial expression he's never seen on her before, and she half sits up, leaned towards her elbows. He licks his lips at the sight of her chest in just the push-up bra and mumbles;

"Don't worry. Nobody will ever know. _Trust_ me."

Then he pulls her with him down on the bed again and kisses her. However satisfied, something in the back of his head still tells him that he's heading in the wrong direction. That he'll be regretting this tomorrow or even further ahead. But she feels so fucking good under his hands and her body is freaking gorgeous.

When her lips find his again, he just groans and goes with it.

Fuck tomorrow. Fuck _everything_.

He's in bed with a hot and willing Brooke Davis. What guy would say no to that?

---x---

Honestly Nathan isn't all that surprised to wake up in the middle of the night alone. He remembers Tim shaking him back into consciousness and telling him that everyone was gone. He had rubbed his hands over his face and looked around in a daze before catching sight of the bright pink bra poking out from beneath the bed.

"Whoa," Tim grins and picks the garment up with a finger to swing it around, "go Nate!"

"Give me that," Nathan snatches it away from his friend with a scowl. "Have you seen Brooke?" He asks sounding careless.

Tim's eyes widen in shock, "No way! You and Davis?"

"No _Dim,_"Nathan replies convincingly, "I want to ask her if she plans on going to see Peyton tonight." He lies effortlessly and sometimes when he does things like this it scares him. It shows he truly is his father's son.

"Hmm," Tim rubs his chin in deep thought, "I saw her grab Rachel and run out the door in a hurry?" He offers up the only information on the brunette that he has. "She looked upset man, I thought maybe she—"

"Tim, please. Spare me the gossip, my fucking head is pounding." Nathan scowls and presses a hand to his head and he looks up and sees Tim's eyes trained to the tripod in front of the bed.

"Nate man, you are my _God!_" He cheers and reaches over to replay the footage Nathan has recorded.

Nathan is up on his feet in seconds and he shoves Tim out the door before ejecting the tape from the camera. He stashes it in his drawer and looks around the room for anymore traces of Brooke. He sees nothing and ignores the deep feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

He's done nothing wrong. Peyton had broken up with him and Brooke had been willing. No one did anything they didn't want to do.

"_She looked upset man…"_

Nathan shouts a curse into the room and jabs his fingers through his hair. He sees his cell phone on his nightstand and grabs it quickly to scroll through his contacts. He pauses over her name and contemplates if it's a good idea to call her now or wait until tomorrow. Or if they could both just chalk it up to a meaningless one night stand.

He's still technically drunk as he sways on his feet and plops down at the end of his bed. But he's not drunk enough to forget how she felt in his hands. How her lips felt against his mouth or how it felt when she had…

"Fuck!" He curses again and punches the air.

---x---

Rachel stares at her friend from across a table in a 24-hour diner. The booth is small and the lights are too bright for her alcohol dazed eyes but she says nothing. It's clear to her that something bad has happened. Something that with each passing minute she watches her friend struggle to find the courage to say it out loud.

"You weren't… you know, _raped_, were you?" Rachel whispers and leans over in the booth to get closer to Brooke.

Brooke only shakes her head.

She feels her shoulders immediately relax some of the tension that had built up. Rachel waits for Brooke to speak and she motions for the waitress to refill her cup of coffee in the meantime.

No one in Tree Hill understood their unconventional friendship. Rachel could give a shit and Brooke felt the same way. The two shared a deep understanding of each other. Something that came in handy at times such as these when a normal friend would press on the "what's wrong" subject.

But that wasn't their style. Brooke would talk when she was ready and Rachel would wait patiently until then. But it was bordering on 4 a.m. when Rachel finally began to reach the end of her more than understanding patience. Enough was enough and after 87 minutes and three cups of coffee Rachel was getting tired of the silence.

"Look B, if you're not ready to talk about it that's cool. But can we maybe carry it home now? I'm getting tired." She yawns after saying the last.

Brooke is still silent but she nods her head and stands up from the booth. Rachel throws down a twenty and motions for Brooke to lead the way since they drove in her car. It's not until they're inside her light blue beetle, belts strapped in and engine at a low purr that Brooke chooses then to finally speak.

"Can I stay at your house tonight?"

Rachel nods and settles back into her seat by reclining her chair and closing her eyes. She waits for Brooke to switch on the radio and after a minute or so she realizes that not only is the car silent, but it's not moving. She opens her eyes and sees Brooke staring forward with a blank look on her face.

"Hey slut, autopilot hasn't been invented yet for road vehicles. You have to put the car in drive and move forward on your own." She snorts.

But Brooke still isn't moving.

"Did you hear—"

"I slept with Nathan." Brooke blurts.

"Oh shit," Rachel flies upright in her seat and places a hand over her friends on the steering wheel. "Maybe I should drive." She suggests.

"I think that would be a good idea." Brooke nods.

---x---

_April 26__th__ 2006_

High school's so predictable, Nathan thinks as he strolls down the familiar halls of Tree Hill High with his usual air of self assured confidence. To his left a group of freshmen girls giggle and look away from him and on the right a few of the guys on his team nod their heads. Everyone knows him, and everyone loves him—it's just the way things are.

However, the smirk that wants to pull up in its usual spot, falls flat. Instead he hides a grimace and fixes the shoulder strap on his backpack and gets maybe two more steps before he realizes that today is different.

It's been almost 72 hours since he had sex with Brooke Davis, best friend of Peyton Sawyer. And it's been exactly 17 hours since he got back together with the curly blonde.

Why they got back together? He's not really sure of that. Probably because when you're a 16 year old guy and the ex-girlfriend comes begging to take her back, you do. It's convenient and familiar.

It's safe.

And its also much easier to walk up to Peyton in the school corridor and kiss her before third period than to contemplate why he's not really feeling guilty about what he had done. Easier not to think about the tape that's hidden in his desk drawer at home, and that he has thought of watching for two nights in a row now but yet hasn't had the courage to actually plug into the VCR.

Every time he thinks about it he ends up not doing it, because somehow he's afraid that watching that tape might make him realize stuff he doesn't want to know.

Sure, he's a hot-blooded 16 year old male who is sure that it would be extremely arousing to watch himself screw Brooke Davis, hottest girl in Tree Hill High. But au contraire to everyone's beliefs, he's not a totally insensitive asshole, and he's seen how pale and silent Brooke's been the last couple of days.

It's clear to him that _she_ is feeling guilty. Strangely enough, that makes him feel worse than the actual deed. And there's the thing that Tim said. That Brooke had practically run from the party looking upset.

He's not sure why he even cares. Usually he has no conscience when it comes to drunken hook-ups, and lord knows that he's cheated on Peyton plenty of times before. But he knows Brooke well enough to know that _usually_ she has even less scruples when it comes to these things then he himself has.

Now, just as he kisses Peyton squarely on the lips, the brunette on his mind rounds the corner in the corridor and walks towards them. There's a tiny rise of her shoulders and just like all the other times she has walked in on them today, her gaze turns to the floor. Then she says; "Peyt, I'm going to head early to the gym. Are you coming to practice later?"

His blonde girlfriend nods. "Yeah, I'll catch up. I'm just gonna finish some stuff in art-class." She shrugs and curls her arm around his waist in a familiar way that used to be a comfort to him. Now it just makes him frown.

"Okay," Brooke smiles faintly and keeps walking and inwardly he curses to himself.

"Babe," he mutters to Peyton and pulls back. "I gotta go. I have to… umm… talk to Whitey," he blurts out a lie.

Nathan's not even sure why he's doing this. All he knows is that he needs to talk to Brooke because ever since their drunken hook-up at his party there's been stuff that he can't quite get his head around.

Peyton just shrugs and nods, "Sure. See you in the gym later?"

"Yeah." He nods, not even sure of what she'd just said.

Two minutes later he catches up with the brunette right outside of the locker rooms. Her face is void of any emotion but her mouth is shut tight, indicating a clenched jaw. He grabs her arm to stop her and she flinches visibly.

"Hey, Brooke. Wait. I need to talk to you."

Slowly she turns and her face is calm. She's been avoiding this, actually even dreading it, but she knew that it was coming. She knows it like the soft whisper of wind before a dangerously brewing storm.

He is the wind—she is the storm.

"Yes?" She smiles sweetly with the bat of her lashes. She's taunting him and she knows it. But it's a natural reaction she has that she doesn't realize until it's done.

Nathan can see the clouds behind her eyes—the mischief in her smirk, but he refuses to play along. He was there for one reason, granted it was something beyond the realms of his normalcy... "Are you okay?" he bites the bullet and asks her.

To her the words sound misplaced in the mouth of Nathan Scott but she doesn't display it. She can't because that would show him that this is getting to her and she can't have that. She's spent too many hours with Rachel last night practicing on believing that she's okay. But of course she's not. What she did to Peyton was unforgivable and she never should have done it. It doesn't matter that Peyton is treating her like crap and that her blonde friend breaks up with Nathan every other day. Boyfriends are off limits, no matter if Rachel says that she hasn't done anything wrong.

"Of course I am," she mutters and concentrates on keeping her eyes level with his. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He frowns.

"Because we slept together," he tries to clarify. "Shouldn't we at least talk about that?"

Her eyes widen as her lips form an 'O' of horror, "Shut up!" she hisses at him. "Do you want someone to hear you?"

The anger is back and at least this is something he's used to, something he can play off of and feel some sort of comfort in.

"Listen, as far as I'm concerned? That night _never _happened. Okay?" Her stare is intense.

'_Good, right?_' he thinks. The night not having happened means no drama. And it's not like he cares about being 'friends' with her or anything. But if this is a good thing, than why all of the sudden is Nathan pissed?

"So we never mention it again, or what?" His faces twists in confusion.

"Exactly." She brushes a hand down the front of her shirt and picks off some lint before flicking it away.

Suddenly Nathan feels like the lint on her shirt. Something small and unnecessary, something to be quickly discarded without another thought. His ego bubbles to the surface at this revelation and he scoffs at her.

"Well, okay then. I'm glad we have this settled." He replies and she nods. "So you're just another notch on my bedpost. I forget you and you forget me." He grins like an arrogant asshole.

Her posture stiffens. "It won't be that hard." She sneers. "You're not that much to remember anyway. In fact I don't understand why Peyton took you back."

_Bitch_. Her words heat up his blood and boils through his veins—and to think that he had felt bad for her! But he shows her nothing but cool calmness. He is the mask of serenity. To her he appears as if all his troubles are squashed.

He shrugs and gives her a glance over. Sure, she looks hot and her body is much curvier than Peyton's has ever been. Much more in line with what he likes. But he's not dating Brooke, is he? No, he's dating Peyton.

"Great," he mutters coldly. "I was just making sure, because I can't have you going all Fatal Attraction on me or running of to tell Peyton." He snorts and she rolls her eyes. "Because if you do? Then I still have the tape and I swear I'll show it to the entire team." Then he chuckles, "Not that any of it is news to them. They probably all have their own tapes of you…"

Involuntarily a small gasp escapes past her lips and it's as if he's won the Olympics. He's gotten a rise out of her. A small one but he's gotten to her and that is all he needs to regain his dignity.

Strangely annoyed he then storms off in a whirlwind of arrogance. So caught up in his own failed attempts of holding onto whatever false dignity he felt he had left, he misses out on the biggest shocker of all.

A somewhat vulnerable looking Brooke Davis.

But then again, he wouldn't have known how to react to something so enigmatic anyhow.

---x---

* * *

Author's note: Two things, 1: BLers, just like on the real show, Lucas wasn't in Brooke's social circle in Sophomore year of high school, so be patient. 2: BNers, we hope you enjoyed. ;)

Thank you's: We (Lynn and Elena) are blown away by the amazing reception of our collaboration. We've been working pretty hard on this story, (actually we're still working on it) and the fact that so many of you seem to like it, is a great relief.

We're blushing when reading all your beautiful words. Some of you are fellow BN-lovers but it's awesome that even the other half, the hardcore BLers, gave us equally amazing reviews. For next update (when Lynn isn't buried under piles of work and Elena isn't currently on a business-trip) we'll make more personal thanks, but for now we want to shout out the biggest thank you to all of you:

Stefy

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	3. Every Night’s Another Story

**AN: **From here on out everything you read is what leads up to the prologue. Thanks you at the bottom. Xoxo, E & L.

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 2:** Every Night's Another Story

_**May 2nd, 2006**_

The screeching sound of the boys' sneakers against the gym floor is deafening as the Tree Hill High's cheer squad warm up before practice. The girls are scattered in clusters of two's and three's and Rachel has taken her usual spot at the sidelines with Brooke, making sure that they're seen by the players out on court.

Flaunting is essential, just like the occasional flirting and the nonchalance.

But the nonchalance seems to be something her friend finds rather hard lately.

"I thought we had _talked_ about this," she mutters and rolls her eyes. She watches Brooke stare after Nathan Scott as he runs from one side of the court to the other, and she frowns disapprovingly.

"Talked about what?" Brooke grunts and bends down to touch her toes.

"You have to put him out of your mind, B. Erase him from your memory!" Rachel smacks her hand against Brooke's shoulder.

"Ow," Brooke scowls and starts to rub the spot Rachel hit. "What the hell are you talking about?" she asks glaring at her friend. The accusation is completely ridiculous.

"I'm talking about your pathetic little puppy dog stares in that assholes direction," the redhead hisses under her breath. "Stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything!" Brooke grits her teeth and snaps back.

"Really?" Rachel slides her hands over her hips. "Then why can't Nathan keep his eyes off of you?" She inquires and Brooke's head twists around to see if this is true.

She's right. _Shit_.

"We agreed to pretend like nothing happened. The ass even went as far as to threaten me if I told anymore," she scoffs. "As if I would _ever_ own up to that mistake."

But Rachel just shakes her head in disappointment. "You are so effing predictable. I give it two weeks before you two 'make a mistake' again."

"Not in a million years." Brooke barks.

"Care to wager on that?"

Rachel's brow arches and Brooke turns to face her friend. "What are you saying Rachel? That I'm a whore and I can't keep my legs shut?"

Rachel giggles because this is exactly what she thinks but it's not what the bet is about. She places a hand on the girls shoulder and bites back a smirk. "Trust me B, this has been a long time coming. You two are royalty and the fact that you guys are _not _together is a bigger scandal than if you were. So…" she shrugs.

Brooke seems to ponder her words and in the silence that forms, they can both clearly hear Nathan being yelled at by Whitey for not paying attention. Then Brooke smirks.

"You know what? You're on. I was drunk and it will _never _happen again." She slaps her hand into Rachel's and squeezes it tight. "Let's say… a hundred bucks?"

"No, let's just do this on principal. I have money, I want your respect and appreciation for my ability to know you better than you do." Rachel grins. "Because I am the be all, know all, and you aren't even on my level yet." She teases with a hip bump.

"Whatever," Brooke grumbles and ignores the lingering look Nathan throws at her as he passes by the cheerleaders.

"That boy wants it, he wants it _bad_." Rachel snorts. "But then again," she shrugs, "so do you." She pats Brooke's shoulder. "Good luck," she whispers into her ear and Brooke looks back at her with a self-assured grin.

"Game on, bitch."

---x---

_**June 5**__**th**__**, 2006**_

A month passes quickly and suddenly it's summer. Four days left of their Sophomore year and then the long vacation before Junior year is going to start. And this semester couldn't have ended better, because this morning Brooke got the best news. Cheer-captain and graduating senior Morgan Finley is going to leave the title to a sophomore.

To _her_.

She - Brooke Penelope Davis - is going to start off next year as Tree Hill High's Cheer Squad-captain, a title never before even handed to a junior student.

Her mother would be proud. That is if her mom was ever home to receive the news… Or if her mother even cared.

"That was pretty cool," Rachel says and slaps her in the back. "Do you even realize how much fun we'll have in the squad next year? And did you see Miranda's face? I swear to God that she was sure she had the title in a bag already…"

She laughs and nods. It had felt awesome. Brilliant. So _exciting_.

"Guess who's first to get kicked off the squad after summer break?" she snickers evilly and Rachel offers her a proud smile.

The only dirt in the cup is the fact that Peyton hadn't even said congratulations. Her blonde childhood friend had just rolled her eyes and muttered "_It figures…" _before promptly just leaving the gym. She's not sure if Peyton is jealous or if this too is in the lines of P Sawyer's recent emo-parade. Never the less it hurts, because they had planned for this since elementary school. To be cheerleaders and to rule the school.

Now Peyton seemed to have had a change of heart.

"Should we celebrate?" she says and tries to shake off the slight disappointment. "Nathan has a party for the sophomores at his dad's beach house."

"What else? I plan to get smashed." Rachel grins widely. "Bitch, you should show up there in the uniform. Turn some serious fucking heads."

At least she can count on Rachel. Their unconventional friendship has only grown stronger since the night when she made her life's biggest mistake, and lately she feels closer to the redheaded friend than she does to the blonde one.

"We should ask Peyton too," she still mumbles and opens the car door to her little baby-blue beetle. "It's her boyfriend's party."

Rachel rolls her eyes and the underlying message is clear. _Bullshit_.

"_Ex-boyfriend_. And you ask her if you feel that you need to Brookie, but you and I both know that the only one that had a crappier attitude than Miranda back in the gym was you precious P Sawyer. That girl needs a serious reality-check."

Her lack of response creates a long silence before she shrugs and conjures up a big smile.

"Just get into the car Judge Judy," she says and gets in the drivers seat. "Peyton is always like this when she's PMS-ing. She'll snap out of it." She turns the ignition key. "Come game day she'll be back to normal. She always is..."

_Ready for game day, P Sawyer?_

_Am I ever, B Davis? _

The exchange of words goes back as far as first year in junior high and it's as cemented as the old _Hoe's over Bros' – Buds over studs_.

But lately, traditions between herself and Peyton fall short. Honestly she's not sure what's happening. The last two months she's taken way more crap than usual from Peyton, because deep inside she still carries around a whole truckload of guilt, and the only time she had snapped back was the other night when some of the girls had stayed around after practice to polish a routine…

_She wasn't deliberately bringing down Peyton's cheer but when they did the hundredth "Here we go! Ravens, lets score!" and Peyton still got it wrong, she decided to interfere._

_  
"Wait! Hold on, Peyton, you've got the arms wrong."_

_The curly blonde looked back at her with a both bored and annoyed expression and hissed "It's not brain surgery, Brooke!"_

_The sudden mood-switch made Brooke frown. She was just trying to help and there was no reason for Peyton to bite her head off._

_"Woah, P Sawyer… what's with the attitude?" she said and took an irritated step forward. But instead of backing up like she had thought she would, Peyton's chin rose defiantly._

_"What's with your LIFE? Seriously, aren't you embarrassed that the most important thing in your world is some stupid cheer?"_

_It stung like a stab wound. Even more so because the obvious insult came from her supposed to be 'best friend'. But even though she heard several of the other girls gasp, she shrugged the question off and tried to stay calm._

_"Loo,k" she said in a warning tone. "I'm really sorry things didn't work out with you and Nathan, but don't go all Mariah on me, okay?"  
_

_Peyton's eyes turned dark and she snorted "You think this is about Nathan? Huh?" _

_When she raised an eyebrow in mock surprise, Peyton laughed dryly. "You're not even close! You're not even in the neighborhood of close!"_

_No? Well if it wasn't the one millionth break-up with Scott that was the problem, then she had no clue. And she started to get fed up with tip-toeing around Peyton and her fucking emo outbursts. Hands firmly placed on her hips she stared back at the curly blonde._

_"Okay then, what's wrong?" she bit back with a slight sarcastic undertone which only seemed to trigger Peyton more._

_"What's wrong is how… _pointless_ all of this is. Pointless and brain dead!"_

_"Stop saying that!"_

_Her own voice had risen too, and by now Rachel had taken a step forward with a scowl on her face. In fact, Peyton's outbursts had everyone that was still left in the gym, even Whitey, staring at them. But the blonde didn't stop. She just yelled louder. _

"_I say what the hell I want, Brooke! Because it's true. What difference does it make if you sleep with a popular guy, or you go to the right party, or you know the moves to some moronic cheer to do with some lame-ass game I could care less about!" _

_A breath and then came the finish. The slap in the face._

"_Maybe you care because it fits the profile? Maybe this is all you're cut out to be?"_

_Then Peyton turned and stomped away towards the locker rooms. Stunned, Brooke just watched her go, and when she turned back she could see Nathan looking at her. And for the first time in weeks, she actually looked back. _

Brooke forces out another smile and puts the shift into gear. She hates how her friendship with Peyton is changing, but she's not going to let the curly blonde ruin her night. She had made cheer-captain. Peyton could bitch all she wanted. So to bring her mind off of the earlier bickering, she turns to Rachel.

"You should go naked," she taunts the redhead. "I bet people would recognize you better if you did."

Rachel throws her head back and laughs. "Whatever, Brooke. Let's just get ready for the party. You need a cute boy to top this day off with. You're turning into a shrew."

---x--­-

Brooke stands with Tim, Vegas and Jake in a corner of the living room and listens as the guys recap highlights of some movie. The party is kind of slow and not even the notion that she got the captain-title is enough to put her in the mood for a party.

She's fed up with the way Peyton has been smug and close to unfriendly all night and she looks over at the blonde bitch in question that's standing a couple of feet away, talking to Theresa. Then Bevin comes up to them with her face scrunched up in confusion. Usually this is not an unusual expression worn by Bevin—however, she's squinting down at a newspaper she's holding and she looks as is she's not sure of what she sees.

"Have you guy's seen this?" she asks and Vegas leans over to look.

"Seen what?" another voice speaks out.

"The High School Fearleader… It's a comic strip." Bevin reads for a second or two. "Wait, this is insulting, right?" Her little nose scrunches up like a bunny.

Tim chuckles, "My dog can draw better than this."

But then Vegas looks over at Brooke and smirks. "The girl looks kind of familiar… Right, Brookie?" He has the audacity to wink at her. She never should have let him finger her their freshman year behind the bleachers. _Damn him. _

She stays silent, because it takes less than a second after she looks over his shoulder to realize who is responsible for the comic strip. She would recognize Peyton's characteristic style of drawing anywhere. The deep black strokes that line the background and gray shaded shadows that seem to make the picture jump out at its viewer. Peyton has always been talented beyond belief and Brooke has always encouraged it—when she wasn't being overly emo that was.

But the comic-strip is without a doubt a direct insult intended for Brooke and Brooke alone.

Anyone can see that the cheerleader in the drawing is her. If not for the fact that Peyton has perfected every one of her physical traits all the way down to her dimples? No one would have known. But the dark hair, light eyes and the small beauty mark above her cheek is a strong indication. Yet it's not even all of those details that set Brooke apart.

No, it's the painted captain-C on her cheek does the trick. Brooke is known for showing spirit and she had told only _one _person that she would be painting a 'C' rather than her usual 'R' for Ravens. She had thought it was a cute idea and Peyton had even offered a small smile.

_Where is your smile now Peyton?_ Brooke wants to shout.

Theresa comes over and giggles drunkenly, "Really, what guy keeps his hat on during sex?" she points to the drawing and to try and cover up the fact that she's embarrassed as hell, Brooke giggles along with her.

"Who is this socky person anyway?" She says innocently and then Nathan's irritated voice comes from behind her.

"Yeah, I wonder." His sarcastic growl is aimed at his ex-girlfriend.

Peyton seems tense and she tries to walk away but Nathan is deliberately standing in her path. More people are coming to look at the comic and Brooke wishes she could tear the paper to shreds. She wants to watch them burn in a fire and then she wants to shove Peyton in after it. But instead she takes a swig from her plastic cup of booze and wishes that she was drunk. Where the hell was Rachel when she needed her?

Probably with that freshman quarterback from Duke.

"It's just a stupid comic strip," Peyton mutters. "Who cares, right?"

Well Brooke cares. But she is good at pretending and her face is emotionless when she shrugs.

"I'd say it's more like _sucky_. Whoever it is doesn't know the first thing about it. It's made out to look so…"

A blonde guy walks by and mutters "Shallow?" and she looks at him for a second. He's from the River-court crowd and she faintly recognizes him. She sees him look at Peyton and Peyton looks away.

With the comic-strip still in her hand she bites back the bitter comment on the tip of her tongue. It hurts because deep down she's starting to worry that Peyton and the nameless blonde guy is right. Maybe she is shallow. Maybe her life is just one long string of one night stands and parties.

She looks at the blonde guy once more and he looks back at her with sympathy in his eyes. This only pisses Brooke off and quickly she averts her gaze away from his soul searching eyes. Who the _hell _was he anyways?

"Whatever…" she snaps and spins around towards the kitchen. "Where's the keg?"

---x---

Lucas Scott wonders for the millionth time why it is he's here. In Nathan's beach house no less, it's as if he's asking to be picked on. However, everyone seems so wrapped up in their own separate miseries, that no one's noticed him.

Well, okay—_Brooke_ had possibly spotted him. They did share those intense three seconds of eye contact before she spun away looking for the nearest alcohol beverage. He can hear her now. Giggling at something someone has said that he knows isn't that funny because he can hear how fake her laughter sounds.

"Hey man," Jake slips up beside him suddenly, "I really didn't think you'd have the balls to come." He chuckles.

Lucas smirks at him and rolls his eyes, "It's actually a bet I'm trying to win against Haley," he shrugs. "She thinks I won't last one hour."

"Well," Jake glances down at his watch, "you are now past the one hour mark, congratulations… what did you win?" he grins up at Lucas with watery eyes and a vacant expression.

He's wasted.

"She has to cover my shifts at the café for a whole week," he snorts and eyes the couple to his right who are on the verge of a major blow out.

"Don't mind them," Jake rests his arm around Luke's shoulders and points at Rachel and a much older looking guy. "That's just Raye's flavor of the… day—week—month… I dunno," he snickers into his side, "but to tell you the truth this one's lasted the longest out of any other chump I've seen her with."

"Get the fuck off me, _Owen!_" she screams and launches her purse out to smack his shoulder as hard as she can. "If I wanted to date an immature _loser _I would have stuck with high school boys!" she snaps angrily. "I thought you college guys were supposed to have some sort of leverage. Your competition is starting to look a lot better!" she points at a group of her male classmates.

"Be a little more loud and dramatic, will you?" Owen counterattacks with a look of pure distain, "It was _one_ body shot, and it's not like we're official or anything. You said so yourself. Maybe you should make up your mind," he scoffs and shakes his head at her disappointed. "Now who needs to grow up?"

Lucas inwardly cringes because he knows it's a matter of time before Rachel explodes. Her eyes narrow at the guy in front of her and just before she can get a word out, Brooke jumps in between them and presses her hands against the taller girls shoulders.

"Why don't you and I spark one out back, huh? Chris hooked me up," she pulls a joint out from her back pocket. "Guaranteed to fuck you _uuup,_" her head falls back as she says the last word.

Rachel hesitates, and for the ones who are still watching the scene, they wonder what she's going to do next. And when all she does is nod her head and follow Brooke out the back sliding glass door, they look away dissatisfied. With Peyton not around to cause the drama, they have no other source of entertainment.

Jake rolls his eyes, "Aye," he shouts out at Owen who looks over and glares at them. "Don't sweat it man, Raye never keeps a guy longer than the flavor lasts anyways."

Owen grunts and takes a step closer, which makes Lucas want to backtrack but with Jake hanging on his side, he finds its impossible to move at all.

"You know," Owen laughs to himself and it's not an act that settles Luke's nerves. "It's because of idiots like you that make it virtually impossible for girls like her to let anyone in. So," he jerks Jake's hand out from where it hangs over Lucas' right shoulder, "thanks man. Now I have to work twice as hard to prove her wrong."

"Yeah, great job doing that with the body shot," Vegas slinks into the conversation to back up Jake who is so far gone it doesn't even occur to him that he could have just gotten his ass kicked.

When Owen sets his gaze on Vegas, Lucas feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Then suddenly, the guy smirks, "Hey, I never said I was perfect." He shrugs nonchalant.

All three blink in surprise and watch as Owen turns around and heads off towards the back porch in a casual fashion. Jake hiccups and almost falls flat onto the floor and Lucas barely has enough time to catch him. Vegas is no help because as soon as Owen was gone, so was Vegas.

"There you are!" Someone yelps and rushes over to yank on Jake's shoulder. "I was looking everywhere for you, Nikki is freaking out. She wants you leave, like—_now_." An unfamiliar girl scolds Jake and barely passes a second glance at Lucas.

This doesn't surprise him, he's invisible and he likes it this way.

"Nikki's here?" Jake's head lifts up lazily, "Where?" he looks around. "But she broke up with me," he frowns.

The girl rolls her eyes severely annoyed, "Jake, just move your ass. You know how she is." She sighs and Jake nods his head.

"Peace out Luke, glad you came buddy." He pats his shoulder and stumbles off with the girl from before.

Lucas doesn't know Jake all that well, but he knows enough about what he sees all around him to know that anyone who hangs in this type of environment for too long is bound to get sucked under. Taking one last glance around the room he dismisses everyone and takes a more relaxed deep breath. He is so glad this is not his crowd, that these are _not _his friends.

Grabbing his cell he presses the numbers that he can dial without even looking and steps outside the house. Long, quick strides get him to his truck before she even answers, and when she does her small, innocent voice calms him instantly.

"Well, well, look who it is. Mr. Party Boy, Stiffler, himself." Haley chuckles.

Lucas smirks and jerks open his truck door, "It's 11:30," he responds.

Haley laughs some more and he can hear the old black and white film playing in the background. "Why yes it is, and I'm so thrilled you've learned how to tell time!"

"Shut up," Lucas rolls his eyes and starts his truck. "Don't be such a sore loser, Hales. I won, deal with it. You're on café duty all next week."

"Yeah, yeah," she mutters, "whatever."

"You save me any Red Vines?" He asks pulling out onto the road that leads to her house.

She sighs, "Luke, since when is this house _ever _out of Red Vines?"

He chuckles and nods his head, "Alright, I'm on my way."

"See you then _Animal House_," she snickers.

Lucas readies to end the call when suddenly something occurs to him and he stops her from hanging up. "Promise me we won't ever be like them?" he tries to sound normal, but he knows he's far from it—_miles_ even.

She teases him for being so gloomy and says, "I promise if you promise."

He likes her answer, "I promise," he says.

---x---

It's late when Brooke unknowingly happens to walk past Nathan in the up-stairs hallway. She's been sitting up on the highest balcony for she doesn't know how long and the party had droned on without her just fine. She just wishes she could say the same for herself, because she's still hurt over Peyton latest cry for attention.

So now she is on her way home. The party sucks, she's not in the mood, and since Rachel is still bitching at Owen downstairs, she just wants out of here. She makes it as far as the second step down before Nathan's hand reaches out and grabs her arm so that she can't get away.

"What?" she sighs in annoyance, and he pulls her around to face him.

"Don't mind her crap sketches, Brooke. She's angry with me. Not you. She made that drawing to piss _me_ off."

He's not so sure why he feels it's important that she knows this. He only knows he's been looking for her for the past freaking 45 minutes and now here she is. Brooke is a bit taken off guard. So this was about the comic strip? It irritates her that he seems to have noticed that the stupid thing got to her, so she does what she does best. She angrily clenches her jaw and gives him the mother of all death-glares. Rachel would be proud.

"Yeah?" she scoffs irritably—he has no fucking clue how good he has it with Peyton. He fucks up and she always takes the blows. "So you're the half-naked cheer-bimbo in her stupid strip, huh? Nope, didn't think so. Just _leave me_ _alone_."

He frowns but doesn't let go of her arm.

"Actually I'm the faceless jock that screws you in same said strip," he mutters. He thought that Peyton had told Brooke about the fight that made them break up this time, but apparently not.

"Huh?" She raises her eyebrow in confusion and he laughs dryly.

"The baseball cap. That's why she dumped me this time. She freaked out because I wouldn't take it off while we had sex." He scoffs, "She can be so fucking sensitive sometimes. I swear it's as if every day is PMS day. **P**eyton-**M**alicious-**S**awyer."

This brings out another frown from her and he shrugs.

"As I said; _Me_, not you…"

There's a short silence and she fights not to go soft. "So she's pissed at you and she takes revenge by making _me_ into a dumb whore without a brain? That's logical…" She pulls her arm free and hisses "You know? You both actually deserve each other. You're both assholes."

"Funny…" Nathan raises his brow. "You know, that's what Peyton said that night when you and I ended up hooking up, wasn't it? That _you and I_ deserved each other."

He's strangely calm and when she snorts and averts her eyes from his, he grabs her chin and turns her face back towards his.

She realizes that she's kind of hoped that he'd spark some anger. Because she needs to yell as someone and he seems like a good enough target. But instead he looks at her in a way that she sure isn't prepared for. He looks at her with hunger.

"You're hot when you're angry," he mutters and his eyes travel up and down her body. Then he licks his lips and adds "In fact you're _damn_ sexy…"

Her stomach makes a somersault. Not what she expected. _Not at all._

But being Brooke Davis, she can't help but to rise to the challenge and she tries another technique to push him away. Piss him off.

"Maybe we should just fuck again…" she drawls sarcastically and places her now free hand back on his chest. "She seems to want us to screw each other's brains out. Wasn't that something she said last time too?"

His eyes widen slightly at her comment. And it feels good to shock him since he's not really a guy that is easy to shut up. Now he'd turn and run for sure. Just for the hell of it she leans in closer and whispers;

"I bet Peyton doesn't even really do it for you… does she? At least," she chuckles huskily, "not the way I can do it."

Her breath strokes his jaw and he licks his lips unconsciously. The worst thing is that she's right, he thinks. Not that Peyton sucks in bed or anything like that, but his girlfriend… or currently _ex_ girlfriend, is kind of boring in the sack.

Brooke on the other hand, is _not_. He hadn't been so drunk that night that he doesn't remember how great it had been. For a first time, with both of them being drunk off their asses, it had been more than he had expected for sure. It was something to actually _remember _after all was said and done.

With a deep breath he exhales, "Maybe we should…" and his eyes travel from her face down to the dip in the front of her top that exposes the top of her cleavage. "I sure as hell wouldn't mind another go at this…"

Now she is the one that goes quiet. She had never thought that he'd pick up her sarcastic offer, and when he bends his head down a bit and whispers, "You know you want to," a shiver travels down her spine.

_No_. She's not going down this road again. No matter how much of a bitch Peyton is being.

"Forget it!" she spits and pushes him away, but she knows that the action comes a little too late. He had seen her actually contemplate his words and now he looks satisfied with himself. It infuriates her and she barks, "I wouldn't go near you with a six foot pole! You are disgu—"

She hardly has time to suck in a breath before his lips are on hers and he kisses her hard enough to make her taste blood. Within seconds he has her walking backwards into the closest room and she is even the one that kicks the door shut behind them. Unconsciously of course, but still…

His hand goes into her hair, pulling at it to make her give in to him, and she hates that it actually works. However angry she is, she has to admit that he sure as hell knows what he's doing.

"Lock it!" she gasps out when he finally lets her up for air and instead rips his t-shirt over his head.

With a growl he pushes her up towards the closest wall and his hand reaches back and flicks the lock. Then he grabs her again and his hands come up under her tank top to close around her breasts.

"Don't tell me what to do," he hisses and his mouth finds the skin of her neck. She can't hold back the moan and that's when she gives up.

_Fuck_ being nice. Screw all codes of conduct between friends and the bet she'd made with Rachel.

She _wants_ Nathan Scott. And she's going to take him.

---x---

They're both trying to regain their breath. Both panting like fish stranded on dry land. Nathan's arm is still carelessly draped over her body and when he mutters out a breathless, "I could do this every night," then she turns a little so that she can face him.

His eyes are icy blue in the semi darkness and strangely enough she feels no guilt this time. Only lingering satisfaction.

"I bet you could."

She can't help but smirk. She knows she's good and obviously he agrees. The look in his eyes is dazed and his mouth stretches into a grin as well.

"Cocky, are we?"

"Of course."

The faint music from below tells them that the party is still going on downstairs and Rachel probably wonders where she is, but she doesn't care. His hand slowly glides down her hip and stops somewhere on her thigh.

"Seriously though," he says with a low and husky voice. "When can we do this again?"

The question lingers in the air like a hovering spectator until she answers, "We won't." He looks disappointed and the 'Why?' doesn't even have to be worded.

"You and I both know that you and Peyton will be back together again before school starts on Monday," she says in a blasé tone and tries not to think of his hand that slowly slides up again towards her belly. "What is this? Your millionth break up?"

"Fuck Peyton," he growls. "I don't care."

True or false? And more importantly; does _Peyton_ care? Does she care herself?

The blue ice in his eyes changes into almost turquoise when she shifts and allows her thigh to rise and glide against his. In a teasing manner she presses against him and the excitement of this highly forbidden encounter returns.

Coldly she decides that they all probably stopped caring long ago.

"In that case, we need rules," she breathes out and rises to lean against her elbow, efficiently giving him a great view of her naked chest. "…the first one being that this stays a secret. If I hear one whisper in the boys' locker room, I swear I'll never go near you again."

He nods. "And?"

"And secondly. We never hook up unless you and Peyton are broken up. I might be void of scruples, but I'm not _that_ evil."

He gives her a curious look. Wonders how she can seem so unfazed.

"What if you have a boyfriend?" he asks, amazed that they are actually talking. After sex with Peyton he usually just rolled over and fell asleep. But the fire in Brooke's eyes is keeping him wide awake. Maybe because tonight, he's not drunk. Or because she smiles mischievously as if this plotting actually excites her. The look is good on her. Sexy…

"Pshh… _Me_? Having a boyfriend? Come on _Natey,_" she chastises with an amused voice. "You must be mistaking me for someone else. I don't do relationships."

Nothing in her facial expression reveals that she wishes she did. But not with a guy like Nathan, however hot he is with his naked torso covered in a light sheen of sweat. He's born to be a player, never to stay faithful, and in the darkness of the room she wonders why Peyton kept going back to him.

Love?

Didn't her childhood best friend know that love was for fools?

"I have fun," she adds with a slight shrug of her shoulder. "I'm a cheerleader, remember?"

She quirks her eyebrow and with the added fake-innocent tilt of her head, he can't keep his hands off of her any longer.

"Deal," he mutters and reaches for her. "Now shut up."

He cups the back of her head to pull her down but her lips are already on his again. Plump lips and a tongue that tastes like cherry-gum.

The night is still young, and patching stuff up with his bitchy blonde ex girlfriend can wait.

---x---

It's late by the time Brooke finally starts to tiptoe back into the house. A wince covers her features when she steps on a loose board in the floor. She's used to Peyton's house, possibly even her own. She can easily avoid making any kind of noise in those two houses. But in Rachel's she's still somewhat unsure. The territory is new compared to the 11 and 16 years she has on the other two.

But when the room suddenly lights up like Las Vegas, she flinches in shock and almost drops her heels that she's clenching in her fingers.

"_Shit _Rach, you scared the hell out of me." She snaps down at the girl who glares back at her with a somewhat droll stare beneath her usual scowl.

Rachel says nothing in return, but she does cross her arms over her chest. Brooke reaches into her back pocket to pull out the 3 twenties she swiped from Nathan's wallet. He hadn't objected, in fact he had been amused. Teasing her with fancy talk that all meant the same insulting words. _Hooker_. She found that title amusing as well and proceeded to tease him until he was hard again before she left him alone in his bedroom.

So now as she stands over Rachel's smug looking self, she slaps the 60 bucks down into her out stretched hand.

"Shut up." She snaps and shakes her head because she doesn't want to hear what Rachel has to say.

"I didn't say anything." Rachel chuckles.

"You didn't have to." Brooke mutters back.

"Why are you getting so upset?" the redhead mocks her. "I mean, it's not like it wasn't worth it." She smirks. "Because even though you're pretending to be pissed at me right now? You couldn't wipe that grin off your face if you tried."

"Shut up." Brooke says again but this time with a laugh.

Rachel lifts a casual shoulder, "Told ya." She gets up from the chair, "Now I'm going to bed." And with a simple nod she does just that.

Brooke collapses into the chair Rachel has just vacated and she sighs. She really hates how Rachel is always right. She's right about Peyton, she's right about Nathan, hell she's even right about Brooke herself. But most of all she hates that Rachel is right about that last damn thing…

She really can't wipe the grin from her face if she tried.

---x---

_**June 6**__**th**__**, 2006**_

"So you and Peyton are history?" Tim asks him and sends a half-lame pass across the driveway behind his house. It's Sunday morning, and although slightly hung over, they've been out here shooting hoops since 9 am. Dan Scott's orders.

"Nah. I wouldn't count on that."

The ball leaves his hands as quickly as he got it and goes straight through the hoop with a perfect swoosh. He's on a roll.

"No?" Tim looks confused, the know-it-all smile disappearing from his face. "But she said that she never…"

Nathan grabs the ball on the rebound and rolls his eyes with a laugh. Tim can be a lot of things, but he's clearly not the Casanova he wants to be. It sometimes surprises him that his teammate and friend can be so completely oblivious.

"Look..." he says and passes the ball back to Tim. "This is what she does. She freaks out, we break up; a few days later, we make up."

"So why put up with that?"

The big question. Why does he? The answer is easy.

"Because as I said; a few days later, _we make up,_" he says with a devilish smirk.

A second or two, then Tim's face finally breaks into an understanding grin. Sometimes the stupidity of his friend annoys him, but today he even lets Tim slap his shoulder in a 'between us guys' kind of way.

Trusted old _Dim_. Maybe he should tell him what he did last night? Merely two days after said break up with Peyton occurred. If he did, Tim would surely faint out of pure jealousy.

But no. The new arrangement is a secret between himself and Tree Hill High's new Cheer-captain. Sure, he and Peyton will patch things up, they always do. But for the first time he actually looks forward to the next occasion when the blonde dumps him for some ridiculous offense.

Truthfully? He simply looks forward to the next 'tumble' with Brooke Davis.

Summer is starting, two months of no obligations what so ever. And there's always a new day tomorrow.

---x---

**AN:** We know most of you want to know when Brucas is going to happen. Well, let's just say that patience is a that happens is for a reason. Thanks for reading!

**Thank you…**

lilac17, dolcegrazia, FirstHeartBroken, xoheartinohioxo, CheerandBrood323, brucas333, chasitybsp & naleylovex3. **You guys rock!**

**Special Thanks:**

**evergloweyes:** We're not going to go through 'every' scene in every season. We're simply following a timeline from sophmore year to senior year. As for the other characters, they'll all make their appearance in time. This fic is very AU and yes, when BL happens its going to get GOOD!

**brucaschopia4evr:** Thanks so much for your review! It's nice that you get why there is no instant BL, its refreshing actually. We really appreciate your review, we hope this chapter captured your attention as well!

**Fire Tears X:** First of all, you rock for always giving such awesome reviews. You should win an award or something. Second, it's great to able to go back and fill in the blanks a scene in the show couldn't express or didn't express. We're so happy that with this fic we can't go wrong because you love BN & BL!

**HelenItsme:** You won't have to wait long between updates, we have this fic almost completely written! Expect frequent updates! ;)

**BRUCAS123:** Thanks hun, so glad you're enjoying the fic so far!

**angie:** Thank you! We try hard to keep true to the characters and encorporate them into our own plotline. ;)

**BrucasLove123:** Lizzy! Your review cracked us up girly! We're so happy you're hooked on our fic, because its written for good people just like you! If you love Brachel friendship, BN & BL hotness and have a strong dislike for Peyton (or hate!), then this is the fic for you! We're especially glad you love the brachel, its our fav too! ;)

**jeytonbrucasnaley:** Chey! We're we didn't write the BN sex tape goodness, but trust us, you will not be left wanting from here on out! hehe.

**brucasnaleyjeyton:** Emma, you're great. It's hard to get people to understand teh jumping around let alone LIKE it! Thanks for loving it and reading the fic. You're awesome!

**Ali-Chan1:** Amanda! Sooo glad you dug the PMS nickname. I don't think its really hard to tell how much we don't care for Peyton... haha! Get ready for more BN.

**albluvscbg:** Yes, we will figure out what PMS's deal is, maybe not now but the girl is ticking time bomb that will be revealed when the time is right. Glad you love Rachel's part in this, get ready for even more awesome Brachel time!

**chebelle:** Hmmm, it seems we have our work cut out for us! We hope to keep your attention either way. There will definately be some awesome brucas in this! It's a LBN triangle, but hopefully you will actually find yourself torn as to who you want to end up together. Thanks for reading.

**Chelsea L.:** Sooo glad you're anticipating the triangle. It's going to be great. Tahnks for your review. ;)

**AliThompson:** We understand exactly what you mean. We can barely stand OTH ourselves and Elena doesn't even watch it at all. But she does sneak peaks of Brookes scenes on youtube every now and then. So happy to hear you're enjoying the brathan. It's going to get hot & complicated and then even better when BL happens!

**EllaBella18: **Ella, if you love BN angst? You ain't seen nothing yet chica! haha.


	4. Let The Flames Begin

Author's note: A couple of short things – 1. All things come in due time. 2. We love our readers. 3. It's so awesome writing this story together that we've already started a sequel… Oh and 4. Thank you's are at the bottom.

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 3:** Let The Flames Begin

_**June 10**__**th**__**, 2006**_

And just like Rachel's predicted, the ball starts rolling…

They hook up again within a week, this time at a party held at Rachel's house. And just like last time it starts with a fight. Brooke is still pissed at Peyton for the comic-strip and Nathan's been hammered by his dad all day, making his tolerance-level less than zero.

From her spot on Owens lap, Rachel can almost see it coming.

Peyton wants Nathan to vacate the chair he's sitting in because apparently it it's 'hers', and he wants her to give up the bottle of Absolute Vodka that's she's been hogging. She calls him a pig and an asshole. He tells her that she's an annoyingly loud bitch. And when Brooke happens to walk by with a bottle of Tequila, Peyton waves in Brooke's direction and yells at Nathan to go find another drinking buddy.

"_We're through, Nathan! Forever this time!" _

Rachel can't help but chuckle because Peyton is certainly becoming 'the girl who cried wolf'. Counting silently in her head she adds it up to five times just this month that the curly blonde has dumped her boyfriend. Just like Brooke said the other day, Peyton dumping Nathan is something that seems to happen at every party.

And less than five minutes later, when she is headed for the bathroom, she walks by the upstairs guestroom and in there she sees two very familiar dark heads of hair.

Nathan has Brooke pinned against the wall, kissing her so hard that he must be afraid of bruising her. Silently Rachel shuts the door around them and smirks.

Yup, she saw that one coming for sure…

---x---

_**June 23rd, 2006**_

It's actually over two weeks between the third and the fourth time. And Brooke doesn't think about him. Not until they're at cheer/basketball camp and Peyton grumpily informs her and the other girls on the squad that she's done dating basketball players.

Bevin looks confused. "But you're with Nathan…" she says with her forehead in wrinkles. "Or has he quit the team?"

"Nope." The fake-blonde curls bounces around Peyton's face when she shakes her head vigorously. "He's fucking _married_ to the team."

Bevin scrunches her nose in thought and Brooke sighs and shrugs. "She's dumped him again, Bev. That's what she means." It only takes one look at her friend's annoyed face to know. "You did, didn't you Peyt? Is it gonna be like this all summer? You got back together ten days ago."

A simple nod from the blonde and she almost chuckles out loud. Every ounce of the guilt that she felt the first time is vanquished by now, and when Nathan comes on court just minutes later, she smirks and gives him the 'nod'. The slight rising of her chin that tells him that she knows and that she wants it.

The smirk on his face grows into a grin and passing her and the rest of the squad, he reaches out and slaps her butt in an annoyingly self-confident way. She fake scolds him and Peyton snorts.

So for show she gives him the glare of all death glares and he laughs. She should probably be angry about the fact that he so blatantly shows her that he's already planning how to do her later, but honestly it turns her on.

The way he looks at her – even when he's with Peyton – is steamy. He looks like he wants to devour her. He undresses her with one look over the gym and she shocked when she realizes that she's blushing.

Brooke Davis does not blush.

Of course she retaliates by teasing him the entire afternoon. Deliberately acting flirtier and showing off even more skin than she usually does. She divides the attention between several of the players but the grin on his face tells her that he knows that the show is for his eyes only.

And that night she's damn happy that Peyton has decided not to date basketball players at the moment, because she wants Nathan bad. So bad that she sneaks out of hers and Rachel's room shortly after midnight and tiptoes over to his cabin.

She's not really an outdoorsy person, and she never has been. But half an hour later, when Nathan Scott is giving her the second orgasm on a nearby meadow, she doesn't care that they're on the ground, that the grass is dewy and that she has a pinecone pressing into her lower back. She doesn't care that there might be bears in the surrounding woods or that her hair will be full of leafs.

Right then she loves the wilderness.

---x---

_**June 28th, 2006**_

Crouched behind his mother's counter between Mouth and Skills, Lucas wonders how long it could possibly take his mother to open a door. The plan was simple, con Haley into coming back to the Café where she will enter and…

The room suddenly lights up and Lucas instantly takes flight up into the air.

"_Surprise!" _

Haley's jaw drops open and Karen hides a laugh behind her hand, "Oh my gosh!" Haley gasps and looks around the room. "Is this for me?"

Lucas rolls his eyes and hops over the counter, "No, we just had a birthday banner made with your name on it for the heck of it."

"Shut up," Haley blushes and jams a fist into his shoulder. Causing poor Lucas to wince and rub his arm in pain.

"Happy birthday, Hales," he smiles and wraps his good arm around her shoulders to pull her to his side.

They both turn to face the crowd of friends and family and people come to wish her a happy birthday. Her parents are the most excited, they had been itching to tell her all week but promised Lucas to keep it a secret. Which, knowing the James', is a _very _hard task to achieve.

Which is why when they walk away, Lucas sighs and mutters through a smile, "You so knew we were gonna do this, didn't you?"

Haley tries to remain naïve but finds that its impossible, "Yeah," she winces. "I heard them talking about it in the kitchen the other day, I'm sorry Luke. I know you must have worked so hard to put this together."

He laughs, "You should be an actress, James." He shakes her still at his side. "You had that surprised look on your face, _down_."

She rolls her eyes and walks forward a few steps then turns around, "Don't underestimate _mah skills_," she pops her collar and winks. "I'm gonna go count my presents," she bites the tip of her tongue and hunches her shoulders playfully, "wanna come with?"

"Meet you there," he chuckles, "I'm just gonna go talk to my mom for a second."

"Okay then, peace out sucka!" Haley gives him the duce then zips across the room to the table holding the mountain of gifts in her name.

Lucas shakes his head at how goofy his best friend is and yet he loves her for it. Heading over to where his mom and uncle Keith stand, he sees a flash of blonde curls in the corner of his eye. Suddenly his heart stops in his chest and the breath in his throat lodges in place.

_Peyton?_

"Lucas!" his mother shouts.

His head darts towards her voice and he waves at her then turns back to where he thought he saw—_there!_ Walking across the street towards where her car is parked. In her hands is a large black folder and instantly he knows what it is. Her drawings.

As always, she wears her trademark scowl. Something he wishes she would stop doing, because he can't understand how someone so attractive can appear so ugly simply with one look. He shakes the thought clear—like he always does when he comes to the realization that Peyton may not be the girl he dreams her to be— just as she guns her engine so hard he can hear it roar over the music that plays from the small boom box in the corner of the room.

When he can't see her comet any longer he sighs and moves back into the party. He wonders just how lonely it is to be Peyton Sawyer. So young and yet to sad and angry. And again, he's reminded of the blessing he was given the day Dan denied him.

Because otherwise he could quite possibly end up like _them_.

"Lucas Scott!" Haley yelps, sucking him from his thoughts. "Why do I not see one from _you _on this table?" she huffs and sets her hands on her hips.

The guys from the Rivercourt look over at him in mock skepticism and he drops his head to snicker at the floor.

"Well? I'm waiting…" Haley jeers.

He smiles at his friends and is grateful. His hand moves to his back pocket and pulls out an envelope that he hands to the brown eyed girl in front of him. Her brow arches high on her face as she takes the blue cover and rips it open.

"T-t-these are tickets," she stutters and looks up at him in pure shock. "_Concert_ tickets," she states in astonishment, "I stood in line for _hours _and—"

"—tried online, went to Ebay and sat on a block of ice at the 107.9 radio station to try and win tickets." Everyone from the Rivercourt mutters, it's something they've had to listen to for _weeks_.

"I was _this-close _to winning them on Ebay the other day but someone beat me out by five bucks!" She shouts still lost in amazement.

"_Six _bucks, actually," Lucas smirks.

Haley's eyes widen, "_Incognito_3!_" she shoves a finger in his face and jumps up and down as she shouts out his screen name.

He shrugs modestly and smiles down at her, "Happy birthday, Hales." He tells her gently.

She smirks and shakes her head at him, "You are such a softie Lucas Scott."

He ducks his head and blushes because she is so right. He'd do anything for his friends and family. And its so comforting to know that they would do the same for him.

Haley's smirk slides out into a huge grin, "Which is why I am so glad you're _my _best friend!" she squeals and jump into his arms to hug him. "We are gonna have so much _fun _at this concert! Sheryl Crow is my _idol!_"

His happy face falls into a frown, "Uh.. _us_?"

"Hell yes _best friend, _it's gonna be you," she pokes his chest, "me," she points to herself then holds up the tickets, "and front row with Sheryl Crow!"

"Ah, crap," Lucas groans and gets elbowed in the stomach.

---x---

_**July 9th, 2006**_

Nathan's lost count by now on exactly how many times he's had Brooke in his bed. Maybe this is seven? Or eight? They hooked up almost every night at camp and he has since stopped counting.

But now they've been home for nine days – out of which he's spent eight days as Peyton's boyfriend, and all he knows is that tonight he's going to have Brooke again. He _has_ to. A strange need to _claim _her had taken over him after seeing her dance with one of his teammates and he can't make the feeling go away.

So when his door opens six minutes later after giving her the '_nod_', he wastes no time.

"Close the door," his deep tone has a hunger that sends shivers up her spine as she reaches behind her and shuts them into his room.

"What?" she crosses her arms and tries to seem as if she doesn't want him to grab her and do her right up against the door at her back.

"C'mere," he beckons her over by raising his chin.

She takes a hesitant step closer and stops in the middle of his room. Nathan holds a hand out for her and when she resists he reaches out and takes her gently by the wrist. Slowly he starts to pull her towards him until she's standing directly in front of him.

"Stop," she gasps and jerks away from him, "you're breaking the rules."

"No I'm not," he says staring at her lips, "she told me to go to hell."

"That's a very vague technicality, Nathan." Brooke rolls her eyes.

He shrugs, "Maybe."

He closes the gap between their bodies and draws her back into his arms where he teases her mouth with his. "Don't act like you don't want it," he whispers over her lips and when her tongue slips out he pulls back. "I saw you dancing with Fede."

A husky chuckle starts in the back of her throat, "So _that's_ what this is about?" Her eyes dance in the moonlight from his window. "You're jealous."

He stiffens, "_No_."

She laughs again, "Yes," she nods, "you _are_."

"You sure are feelin' yourself right now, aren't you?" He scoffs, "Don't flatter yourself baby."

Brooke licks her lips and a giant grin spreads out over her face. Her dimples poke through and he tries not to groan. He loves her smile, it's so damn sexy and when she looks at him like that he instantly gets hard.

Her hands glide up his chest and she moves in closer to press their faces so close together that their noses touch.

"I think it's _hot_," she says and flashes him a devilish leer through long lashes. "_Really_…" her hands make their way south, "_hot_." She giggles in a way that is far from juvenile.

"Yeah?"

His breathing becomes ragged and he has to close his eyes and take a deep breath when her fingers pull at his belt.

"Mmmhmm," she nods. "You being jealous makes me so damn hot for you…" she says grabs the front of his shirt to jerk him towards her.

He can literally feel her body whisper to him. It calls to him like the fucking pied piper.

"It make's you hot, huh?" he asks her.

"Yeah," she whispers and nods.

Nathan pauses and looks her directly in her eyes, "Then I guess I should tell you…" his eyes travel down to her lips, "that I was so fucking jealous when I saw you two together." He confesses to her.

"How jealous," she pants.

"Let's just say that next practice isn't going to be a good one for him."

He shrugs and she shudders in his hands. "Good," she nods, "then it worked."

He laughs and nods as well.

"Nicely played Davis."

Then he grabs the back of her head and crashes his lips to hers.

She tastes like strawberries and he knows it's her lip gloss but a small part of him thinks its just her. She moans in his mouth and the sound elicits an excited shiver up his spine. She pulls at his bottom lip with her teeth and licks her tongue over his lips to sooth the sting from the bite.

"Turn around," he leans forward and whispers in her ear.

Her body betrays her pride and without protest she does as he says. When she feels his mouth on her shoulder she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. His hands travel north, up her sides where they pause at the back of her halter dress. Fingers pull at the strings and then there's a chill that graces her body as it pools down at her feet. But his hands warm her skin instantly; slowly sliding over her stomach and upwards towards places she knows will set her on fire.

"Tell me what you want," he says into her neck and teases her with his tongue. She whimpers and her knees buckle. But his firm grip on her waist tightens and keeps her from falling.

She shakes her head and leans her head back. She doesn't know what she wants, all she knows is that she doesn't want him to stop. She's not used to not being in control. Words escape her, she can't speak a single sentence because its as if she's forgotten how to.

So he gets creative and cups her breasts from behind. He knows her body and reads it like a well drawn out map. He just wants to hear her say it, wants to hear her _moan _it.

"Tell me what you want," he says again and kisses her chin, "you want that?" he lowers his face into her neck and bites her skin, "how about that?"

She tries to turn around but his grip on her waist forbids her from doing so. She breathes out a frustrated sigh and he chuckles in her ear. He teases her again with his mouth and his hands. Then he releases her from his hold and licks his lips.

"Let me see you..." he whispers and she whirls around and slams her palms against his chest so that he falls backwards into his bed.

Before he can react she crawls over him like a playful kitten. "Your turn," she laughs and pulls his shirt over his head. Then she slides his belt from his jeans, unzips him and awkwardly they work together to free him from the denim.

"How do you want it baby?" she straddles him afterwards and bends down to spread herself across his body. "Just keep in mind you know I like it on top." She teases him by slowly rubbing herself against him.

He growls and grasps her hips in his hands hard, "Yeah," he nods and hooks his foot under her knee and grabs her under her arms, "but so do I," he says and quickly rolls her down onto her back.

His fingers dip into the thin strip at her hips that keeps her underwear in place and slowly he slides it downward. All the while enjoying every delicious inch of her as his fingers glide over her soft and creamy skin.

Skin that is seriously becoming an addiction.

---x---

_**July 12th, 2006**_

"Are you sure that this is okay with Rachel's dude?" Nathan mumbles halfway on the road to Durham, while trying to keep his eyes on the road.

_Trying_, because next to him in the front seat, is a half-naked Brooke Davis, busy with getting out of her formal charity-dinner dress, and the sight is more than mouthwatering.

"It's fine." She pulls the dress over her head and he bites his bottom lip at the sight of her naked chest in the corner of his eye. "At this hour, the entire Sigma Nu house is drunk off their asses anyway."

She leans over and reaches for her duffel-bag in the backseat and her perfect breast rubs against his arm. If they weren't on the middle of route 40, he'd stop at the nearest available place and ravish her. It's dark and at 11 pm on a Thursday night he doubts that they'd get caught.

"Thanks for saving me from that boring hell" she giggles suddenly. "I thought that my mom was gonna throw a bitch-fit when I just stood up and left."

She stretches to throw the dress into the back instead and he inwardly groans. Mental pictures of them tangled in each other on the leather backseat of his truck makes his pants grow tight and he wonders what she'd say about just stopping at the nearest motel.

"Well, my pleasure" he mutters and turns the car stereo on to try and bring his mind out of the gutter. "I guess a bitch-fit won't make that big of a difference with Victoria."

She laughs again and mumbles something about it being a chronic disorder with her mom. Then she starts to shimmy out of her stay-ups. And either she's not aware that she's driving him insane or she's doing all this to purposely tease him. The way she slides the thin material down her legs, one at the time, he's pretty sure it's the later.

He's just about to step on the break and jump her when she interrupts his fantasy.

"Has Peyton called you?" She pulls on the tank top she's just gotten from the bag. "I tried calling her cell this morning but I got sent to her voicemail."

With great effort he tears his eyes from her still naked and tanned legs and concentrates on the cars in front of him. He already knows that Brooke will be hurt by his next phrase and for a second he contemplates lying. It would be more comfortable to say that he doesn't know where his blonde ex is.

But he does.

"She left with her dad to go to Charlotte…" he mutters and glides his right hand up the inviting softness of her thigh without taking his eyes off the road. Primarily because he can't keep his hands off of her any longer, secondarily because it'll distract her from the fact that Peyton left for three weeks without informing her best friend. "She'll be back in August" he adds when she doesn't answer at all.

Brooke frowns. Her leg bends at the knee almost by itself, unconsciously giving him room to maneuver, and she shivers when Nathan's hand travels higher. There's something with the way he touches her. Somehow he always knows when and where to reach for her.

If it didn't sounds so unbearably cheesy, she'd say that he telepathically knows when she needs him. But it's a load of crap of course. Nathan Scott is a horny dog, and truthfully his hands are all over her all around the freaking clock. They're seventeen for crying out loud, there's no such thing as telepathic connections.

"Don't start something you can't finish" she lets out huskily and turns towards him in the dark car. His profile is so handsome in the faint light from the passing headlights and she wants to reach up and outline his jaw.

He looks at her and smirks. "Who said that I'm not gonna finish it?"

Another shiver travels up her spine when his calloused palm reaches the edge of her underwear. She sucks in a breath and his grin widens.

"You're playing with fire, boytoy…"

"Yeah?"

She nods and in the back of her head she wonders why Peyton just left without a word. Then again, things haven't been normal between herself and the curly blonde in months.

"How about I just play with _you_ when we get to the party?" Nathan teases, his voice an octave lower than usual. "Or we can just stay in the car. That way you don't even have to find your skirt."

Laughing, she sticks her tongue out and he makes a lethal move with the car when he lets go of the steering wheel and grabs her face to pull her in for a kiss.

Three weeks without Peyton might actually even be a good thing, she thinks. Nathan and Peyton are still broken up and if they're up in Durnham they don't even have to be all sneaky about it.

It's not like Owen and his friends care if she screws a high school boy that might or might not be taken.

---x---

It's midnight when they walk into the Sigma Nu house and he trots behind Brooke like an insecure geek. Duke is his dream-college, he's fucking bread to attend this school, but that doesn't make him feel more comfortable when entering the frat-party.

Brooke seems at home though and he guesses that she and Rachel have spent enough time up here with Rachel's dude. He doesn't know Owen, but of course he knows _of_ Owen.

The quarterback with nr 17 on his jersey, Owen Morello, made a name for himself already in his freshman year, and now, as a sophomore, the guy is almost a freaking Duke-legend. Everyone who knows anything about sports know of Owen, even down in Tree Hill.

Of course Nathan wishes that his own destiny will be similar.

"You see Rachel anywhere?" he mumbles and places a hand on the small of Brooke's back. They push through a crowd of guys standing in the hallway and he hears the sound of an old Guns n' Roses song.

Brooke giggles. "I hope you're good at Guitar Hero," she says and winks. "If you win I'll give you a prize."

He looks up and groans. In the middle of the big living room Owen just pulls off a guitar riff that makes the rest of the room cheer. Brooke's leer is vicious but he grins back and slides his hand down to grab her ass. "I warn you though," she snickers. "Rachel is badass at this and Owen has the current record."

_Really_? Record, huh? This wasn't the way he planned on getting acquainted with the guys in the frat-house but he silently thanks Whitey for all the nights at away games when the coach gave the team early curfews. Owen might have the high-score on the football field but if there's one game Nathan knows, then it's this shit.

"Watch and learn" he mutters with cocky smirk and then he walks up to Owen and asks if he can have a go. Rachel's boyfriend – or hook-up or what ever he is – gives him an amused nod and he can see Owen give Brooke a curious look before handing him the guitar.

It's ridiculous as hell, but somehow he feels like this is an excellent way to prove himself to the dimpled brunette with the worlds greatest legs. It's a freaking sandbox-move but he figures that if he beats Owen, then Brooke will gladly go upstairs with him later. He wants the prize she talked about badly.

"How about 'Higher Ground'?" he says and a guy pushes a button on the console. Rachel however laughs so hard that she chokes on her drink.

"Red Hot _Chili_ Peppers?" she gets out. "_Come on_, Nate!"

But when the first accord comes out of the surround system, the redhead shuts up.

And when he puts the guitar down exactly three minutes later, she doesn't laugh anymore. More importantly, across the room a certain brunette smiles and points towards the stairs.

Time to claim his prize.

---x---

_**July 23**__**rd**__**, 2006**_

"Hey, can I ask you something man?" Nathan slurs one night and collapses onto the couch beside Rachel's significant other.

Owens brow rises in surprise and he looks around the room suspiciously. He's seen the boy a count of five times, simply because Brooke had brought the dude on several occasions these past two weeks. But this is the first time Brooke's little boy toy has ever really spoken to him past the usual greeting or farewell before and after an event. Despite their lack of casual conversation, Owen has no problem with the kid.

"Sure buddy, shoot." He pats Nathan's shoulder like he would one of his frat brothers and then nods his head.

Nathan gives a sloppy smile and looks into his now empty cup of alcohol. His smile turns into a sad frown and Owen shakes his head. The guy is drunk and one sip away from passing out.

"You know Brooke, right?" Nathan squints up at Owen who looks as if he has three giant heads. He nods and Nathan continues, "Do you know about our," he pauses and purses his lips in thought, "_situation?_" his eyes get smaller as they struggle to remain focused.

"I do," Owen gives another slight nod. "What's on your mind, bro?" Gently he takes the empty cup away from Nathan and sets it down onto the floor.

"How," he licks his lips, "just how twist—" he stops and sighs to lean his head back onto the couch, "I think I like her." He groans and shuts his eyes.

"Like her," Owen settles into the couch and clasps his hands in his lap as he contemplates what to say next. "Can you elaborate?"

Nathan's eyes shoot open, "I can't stop thinking about her sometimes, and it's like whenever I'm with Peyton all I want to do is piss her off so she'll break up with me." He licks his lips and swallows. "And then I can be with Brooke again."

"So why don't you ditch the blonde for good then?" Owen asks as if it's just so damn simple.

Nathan scowls over at him and shakes his head, "You don't get it man. I can't fucking _stand _Peyton but at the same time it's like if I'm not with her, then who the fuck will I be with?" He scoffs.

"Brooke?" Owen suggests and Nathan laughs.

"Yeah," he smirks and searches for his cup, "Brooke doesn't _do_ relationships and even if she did, she'd never get with me."

"Why not?" His new friend's brow rises.

"Because," Nathan sighs, "she's Peyton's best friend. And even if Peyton is the biggest bitch in the whole wide world, Brooke wouldn't do that to her."

Owen tries not to laugh at the absurdity of their conversation, "But you two are sleeping together whenever you and Peyton break up?" he asks and Nathan nods, "Then what the hell is the difference?"

"The difference?" Nathan laughs at Owens confused face. "The difference is…" he stops to watch Brooke saunter past and when she nods her head he smirks and nods back. After she's gone he turns back to Owen with a goofy grin on his face and blinks several times. "What was I talking about?"

"Nothing," Owen shakes his head, "nothing you know the answer to anyways." He shrugs.

Nathan's face is a mask of confusion but he doesn't really care because he's gotten the nod. "So anyways man, good talk. I gotta uh… I gotta…"

"Go?" Owen smirks.

"Y-yeah," Nathan bobs his head and almost falls back onto the couch when he gets up, "I got the nod." He mutters and though Owen doesn't quite get what he means he thinks he might have an idea.

He watches Nathan scamper up the stairs towards one of the rooms upstairs that Brooke is waiting in. Then it hits him and he scoffs in realization. He knows the answer to the question Nathan couldn't answer. The difference is something that neither Brooke or Nathan want to admit to. They both wish Nathan could take back the day Nathan asked Peyton out on the first place.

They want to be together, but Peyton is in the way. They want to be together, but they're afraid to be in a relationship where they can't hide who they are from each other. They want to be together, but what if it works out?

The difference is, with Peyton in middle it keeps them apart.

---x---

_**July 24**__**th**__**, 2006**_

Nathan wakes up on a pile of clothes and on the floor of a bedroom he doesn't remember entering. The sunlight streaming in through the blinds is painful to his eyes and his head feels as if it's going to fucking explode. _What the hell happened last night? _

He tries to see if he's mobile enough to roll away from the smelly pile of clothes and soon realizes they are his own.

The clinking of dishes downstairs makes Nathan wince and cradle his head in his hands. He reaches for his shirt and throws it back down onto the floor in disgust. It smells like beer and vomit. He glances around him and wonders if he had puked in his sleep or something equally as embarrassing. He just wishes he knew where the hell he was so that he could begin to gather his thoughts.

His jeans are a mess, his shirt is ruined and he has nothing but his black cotton boxers on. He's not even sure where his shoes are, let alone where his socks are located. There is laughter downstairs and the giggling sends excruciating currents of electricity throughout his brain. He groans and grabs his head as a louder moan makes it way past his lips. His mouth tastes like a cat died in it and his body feels like it weighs a ton.

Then he sees it. It's sitting there on the floor beside him like an angelic care package from God. A bottle of aspirin and a bottle of water, whoever left this for him is his hero. He pops the top and swallows three Tylenol's before guzzling the entire bottle of water. The sounds downstairs aren't any more bearable than they were before but whatever is down there has to be better than sitting alone in a strangers room.

The creaking of stair steps garners his attention and he braces himself for whoever is about to come through the door. When Owens head peeks into the room, Nathan instantly relaxes and exhales a long held breath. Another look around the room tells him that he must be in Owens room.

Because no one else would have allowed his drunk ass to pass out on the floor in their bedroom. He doesn't know anyone in the Sigma Nu house except Owen and he's pretty sure he made an ass of himself the night before. So the likelihood of a second visit seems slim to none. Even if accompanied by Brooke.

"Oh, good. You're up," Owen slips into the room and steps over him to get to the closet. "You were pretty wasted last night, Preppy," he chuckles and tosses a pair of sweats down at the boy with the hangover from hell.

_Preppy?_ Nathan grimaces at the nickname and shakes his head. "My bad dude, did I hurl everywhere?" He asks hoping he only puked on himself.

"Nah," Owen shakes his head, "you actually didn't hurl at all. That was my buddy Junior who had just a few more than you did." He laughs. "You took it like a champ, man. You didn't even shriek like we thought you would. You just pushed him off you and stripped right on the spot. If it hadn't been for Brooke I think we all might have even gotten a show." He snickers.

Nathan groans embarrassed and pulls the sweats on over his legs. He's still sitting on the floor, too afraid to try and stand. His head feels a little better but he thinks its only because most of the sleepy haze has left him by now. He still has a few more minutes until the meds kick in.

"Look Owen, I meant no disrespect last night. I just—"

"Kid, save it," Owen laughs. "The girl's vouched for you, plus Brooke took care of you so it's not like I had to babysit your drunk, Preppy ass."

Nathan pauses in shock, _Brooke took care of him?_

"Oh, shit," Owens eyes widen, "I wasn't supposed to tell you that. _Shit_." He curses again and sighs. "Ah well," he shrugs not really caring at all.

"Brooke," he starts and the words die on his tongue because he doesn't want to sound like a bitch. "Never mind," he shakes his head instead.

Owen smirks, "It's all good bro, we're cool. Now get your ass up and come downstairs, the girls are cooking us breakfast." He holds a hand out to help Nathan get to his feet.

He wobbles like a newborn and leans against the bed for support, "Thanks for letting me crash here, Owen." He replies as he follows the large quarterback out his room.

"No problem Nate," he turns and looks at him just shy of the first step at the stairs, "you're welcome here anytime. Even if I'm not here, alright?" he nods.

Nathan blinks in surprise, "Really?" he's skeptical.

Owen laughs to himself and nods at Nathan, "Yes, _really_," he teases. "The guys like you too and like I said, Raye and B say you're cool." He shrugs. "And I _know _that if _Raye _says you're okay?" he scoffs, "than you are. You stay good to them and you and me are all good. You feel me, Preppy?"

There is a slight threat in his tone and it brings a small chuckle from Nathan, "Yeah," he nods and accepts the fist Owen has out for him to hit, "I feel you." They pound fists and descend down the stairs.

"Wait," Nathan pauses suddenly, "you said the girls were making breakfast? As in _Brooke _is cooking?"

Owen smirks, "Chill, Raye is a complete control freak in the kitchen. She won't let Brooke within two feet of the stove."

"Which is all good because Brooke won't go within _three _feet of it anyways." Nathan grunts and Owen throws his head back and laughs. The sound makes Nathan wince but he can't help but laugh too.

When they enter the kitchen, Nathan sees the table filled with starving frat brothers. Some of them are hung over and barely conscious, some are engaged in deep discussion and others are checking the girl's asses out.

He can't help but feel the beginning of a growl reach his throat. Owen settles himself at the counter and teases Rachel who turns around and winks back at him. Brooke has her back to him as he approaches her from behind on the other side of the kitchen. She's busy pouring orange juice into cups and doesn't notice him until it's too late.

His hands slide around her waist and he presses his lips at the back of her neck and nibbles her skin. "_Shit, Nathan!_" She curses him and almost drops the pitcher holding a gallon of juice. "I just spent like 15 minutes making this." She points to the opened juice box.

"Babe," he chuckles and tightens his arms around her waist, "all you have to do is add water." He pushes the thin pink strap of her tank top to the side then bends down to kiss her bare shoulder.

"Yeah, but you have to add a certain amount or else it tastes like crap." She frowns and turns around in the circle of his arms to face him. "How are you feeling?" Her hand reaches up to press her palm against his forehead.

Nathan smirks at her and she quickly jerks her hand back down to her side embarrassed. She spins around and tries to walk away but he pulls her back to him. She struggles but he refuses to let her go.

"Nathan, stop." She snaps at him but it only makes his grip on her arm tighten.

He yanks her up against his chest and even though she fights him, she gives up way too easily. His eyes soften and his lips curve into a smile, he loves seeing her when she's vulnerable. She hates it and it's mostly because of that why he thrives on rare moments such as these.

"Hey," he says to bring her attention back to him, "hey," he shakes her and raises her chin to look into his eyes.

"What?" She sighs and locks gazes with him.

"Thank you," he whispers, "for last night."

"I didn't—" he stops her with the press of a finger against her lips.

"Don't ruin it, okay?" he says and leans down to capture her lips with his. She lets him kiss her for as long and as slow as he wants.

It's not until Rachel clears her throat and he sees Owen smirking over at them that he realizes everyone is watching. Owen helps Rachel serve the guys and Nathan pulls Brooke into his lap at the counter. When their two friends come back into the kitchen they all eat at the counter and talk about the night before. Brooke remains in his lap throughout the entire breakfast, and though it feels amazing…

It kinda makes him nervous.

---x---

_**July 28**__**th**__**, 2006**_

It's 11pm and Brooke plays with her cell phone absentmindedly. She's kicked her shoes off and pulled her legs up under her body, but it's still a little cold and she shivers in the air-conditioned airport terminal.

She's going to France. Four weeks in a beach-house in Cannes with her parents.

When she says it like that it actually sounds nice – but it's not. She knows the drill. Victoria and Richard Davis will see this as their month of parenting and she'll be bored off her ass. And since they won't really spend time with her anyway, she'd rather stay home with their maid Juliana. Rachel will come over for two of the weeks as well, but she's still not excited.

Something feels weird in the pit of her stomach.

She fiddles with the cell and scrolls through her messages. Opens the one from Nathan. Again.

_Does it matter to you if I break up with Peyton for real?_

He sent it right before she got into the cab to go to the airport but she hasn't answered it. She's not sure what he means so she doesn't know how to reply. She guesses that he wants to come over but she still doesn't understand the 'for real'?

Absentmindedly she fastens the strand of hair that keeps falling into her eyes behind her ear. Its times like this that she hates her 'deal' with Nathan. The last month has been fun, especially the last weekend at Duke because in a strange way it had felt like something was _different_. As if their opportunity of not having to sneak around had made it more…

She sighs and shakes her head.

Nathan is too much of a player, too much like herself, and the games he plays are skilled.

It's just that for the first time in her 16 year old life she's tired of playing. She wishes that he'd just be honest and say what he really means. Because if it wasn't so highly unlikely, she'd say that the feeling in her stomach stems from the fact that she already misses him, and if he...

The boarding call sounds through the gate and interrupts her thoughts. It's probably for the best because the thoughts aren't making sense anyways.

She sighs. Thinks about calling him to explain about her sudden departure but then decides against it. Instead she types _Don't bother. I'm in France 'til school starts_, and presses send. Then she flips the phone shut and grabs her carry-on.

The sinking feeling in her stomach is still there, through take-off, flight and landing, and although diminishing; it's somewhere in her subconscious for most of her first week spent on the white beaches of Cannes.

But then Rachel arrives, barring the news of Nathans and Peyton's thousand re-uniting, and she finally lets the annoying feeling of weakness go. The '_for real_' was obviously just another part of the games he's playing.

Rachel says to not dwell on the topic and she kind of agrees. Why think about Nate when the Riviera is full of cute French boys?

Then, the day before she leaves to go back to Tree Hill, she gets another text.

_When are you back in town? I need to plan when to piss Peyton off so she'll dump me._

It's a relief. The game is back on in its original form. Evil, low and slutty to the core. This she understands and can handle. Even Rachel looks proud when she snorts and writes back;

_Piss her off right now. I need to get laid._

---x---

Author's note: Junior year starts next chapter. And you all know who popped up in Junior year… ;)

Thank you's:

**Stefy **(Stefybboh) You're amazing Stef. Truly. And the review you sent us for last chapter was so sweet. What you said about the BR friendship? So beautiful. Thank you for coping with the endless nagging. You're a gem!

**Amanda** (Ali-Chan1) thank you for all the awesome msn-support, hun. How can this story not turn out awesome with all that love coming our way? ;)

**Writer Writes Words**: That is an idea actually, to cut off P's hair. Hahaha. Tim will pop up occasionally. He was a fun character. Thanks for the review.

**Brucas10**: We're glad that you're enjoying BN and BL is definitely getting closer. This is the last chapter with no BL interaction. The triangle is about to start. ;)

**Cibele** (): See, one dose of HL cuteness delivered. And don't you worry, girl. The BN hotness is far from over. Thanks for the review and we really hope that you'll stick with it.

**Kristin** (evergloweyes): Glad you like the addition of Jake & Nikki, as well as Lucas & Haley. Get ready for some surprise friendships that form! And yes, when the NBL triangle starts, its gonna get gooood! Thanks for your review!

**Chasitybsp**: No thank you for reading. LOL, well a lot happens to build up to the prologue. All we can say is that it's going to be a bumpy ride. Thank you for reviewing.

**HelenItsme**: We're bothered by Peyton too, believe us. LOL, whats new? But we're also totally hyped that you like our story. Since Rachel is one of our favorite characters, you'll see much more of her. Thank so much!

**AliThompson**: Girl, we're in love with your reviews. So long and so detailed. And what can we say? BN are totally hot, no question about it. Hopefully you'll like the rest of the story just as much. If you like BN and BL the same, then I guess you can't lose LOL.

**Lizzy** (BrucasLove123): Tiny princess, you of no sleep! Aren't you the cutest, huh? You can go Aussie on us anytime if you keep reading our story, isn't that a good deal? ;) With BN, BL, RO… and Tim? LOL How can it go wrong? Luv ya.

**Fire Tears X**: Do not apologize for making us extremely happy. Amazing reviews like yours puts smiles on our faces. Big ones. It's love to read that you've spotted so many of the details that we've worked into this, like the WOTW-refence? How freaking awesome are you for noticing that! Feel free to drop us a PM, telling us your predictions of how the relationship between Brooke and Lucas will develop. :D Thank you, thank you thank you!

**Audra** (albluvscbg): We're so happy that you like our curve-balls ;) And the fact that you feel like this has a connection to the real show even though its AU is great news! Thank you for your review and stay tuned for more ;)

**Cheyenne** (jeytonbrucasnaley): Chey, sweetie. There can never be such a thing as writing BN too good. LOL. BN needs to be good, to compete with BL, right? We love you for reading. Hope senior year isn't killing you.

**cRaZyGuRl093**: Another Brathan-supporter? Yay! If you're on both teams of this triangle, you can't lose. Brachel is a constant in this story, so if you like that friendship, it's all win :D thanks for your review.

**Jem** (flipflopgal): Jem! Coming over to the dark side of being both a BN and a BL shipper? Awesome! We love that you like this. Just stick around for the journey ;)

**Chebelle**: We know that you prefer BL, and we're happy that you're sticking with it anyway. As you say, it's AU, with the occasional added curveball from the show, so pretty much anything can happen. We'd love it if you kept reading.

**Holly** (xoheartinohioxo) What can we say? LOL, BN are irresistible, but the oncoming BL will make things hard. We hope to keep your inner fangirl squealing though ;) Thanks for the review.

**Sammi**: We're totally loving the BN too, at least for now ;) Its nice to hear that you're fine with the pace. Rome wasn't built in one day, as the saying goes. Same for this story… Thanks for your review.

**LifeIChose**: We're pretty sure that your review sums up a lot of the BLers feelings. At least ours :D Thank you for reading and reviewing.

**BrathanBrucasBaleyBreyton**: We agree on all points. LOL. Totally. With the added; We love your review.

**Lucia Davis**: Totally heartwarming. Thank you so much, that review was a huge compliment! We hope that we won't disappoint ;) It's gonna be a bumpy ride.

**Superstargirl7**: All things in good time ;) Remember the prologue? LOL. Thank you for the review.

**Jaimiee**: We would be proud to convert you into an equal BN/BL fan. Maybe if you stick around, it'll happen ;) thanks for the review.

**Special Thanks to: **Lynn (justlikebrooke) she has no idea I'm adding this… but I just wanted everyone to know that she's a fantastic writer and an awesome friend. She handles all my 'my writing sucks' moments like a champ and always manages to make me actually start to _like _what I write. So, thanks Lynn—I heart you chica!


	5. Eyes On Fire

Author's note: You're all awesome, just so that you know. We're awesome too, because we have this story so close to finished that we can easily keep up with these 'once a week' updates, if not even more often. This, even though Elena's laptop is out of order. And you all know the drill; thank you's at the bottom.

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 4:** Eyes on Fire

_**Junior year**_

_**August 30**__**th**__**, 2006**_

If Brooke would make a list of things she'd never expect, then finding Nathan Scott waiting for her at New Brunswick Airport would be at the very top of that list.

Because boys like Nathan don't do that.

And the way her stomach makes a somersault when seeing him is even weirder because girls like herself doesn't fall for soppy shit like this. So she plasters on a nonchalant expression and waves. Blames the fluttering in her belly on the bumpy flight. Because that makes a lot more sense than the comment from her stupid redheaded friend.

_Look who's missed you…_

"You're weak in the knees now huh, B?" Rachel scoffs right behind her. "Just don't go all romance movie on me and run into his arms." The redhead rolls her eyes. "That would be nauseating."

"Cut it out Rach," she mutters back and hauls her giant suitcase off of the baggage-belt. "I bet he's just horny. Either that or O threatened to beat him up if he didn't come along." She throws a nonchalant glance at the two boys standing over at the arrival area. "If I'm not mistaking, the guy with the _flowers_ is _your_ boyfriend."

She's not stupid. She knows that Owen had something to do with this. Because when her friend's tall quarterback boytoy is done smooching Rachel, then he grins over Rachel's shoulder and nods towards Nathan, who's never looked more embarrassed in his life.

And in all honesty, she's thankful. Even though she just glares in response to Rachel's teasing, she _wants_ to run over and ravish Nathan. A month away is a long time and the French boys just don't _do_ what he does. Not anywhere _near_ it.

He saunters over as if he just happened to be in the neighborhood. Tanned, nonchalant and hot as hell. And when he nods his head and mutters "Your flight was late", then she honestly wants to kiss him silly.

"Yeah, so?"

"I'm just saying."

They're in public, in the middle of New Brunswick Airport, and she doesn't know if he's with Peyton for the moment or not. But she can't help it when she flashes him a flirty smile, dimples all in effect, and runs her fingers down his bicep. "Missed me?" she murmurs with a fake-innocent flutter of her lashes. And he finally smirks.

"What do you think?"

---x---

He _has_ missed her.

Or maybe not missed her, but he has been thinking about her a lot. And he has of course missed hooking up with her, because lets realize it, Brooke Davis knows her shit.

He watches her in the corner of his eye as she and Rachel laugh, taking turns in telling him and Owen crazy stories about their vacation on the French Riviera, and he wonders momentarily how many guys she's flirted with during the past month. He wonders if she's been kissing guys, and maybe even…

"So, how're you and Peyton?"

The raspy voice is low and he looks up from her cleavage to her face. Even though she probably can't read his thoughts, he's a little stunned that she asks that. Would he be here if things were good with the blonde? No.

But the question reminds him that he has no right wondering what she's been doing these weeks away. Because he's the one that has a _girlfriend_. At least an off-and-on kind of girlfriend.

"She's at home" he mutters and bends down to tie up an already tied sneaker. "She dumped me yesterday for saying that her sketches were dumb."

He waits until Owen and Rachel are almost at Owens truck before getting up again. He doesn't want Owen to listen in on their conversation because the guy makes it pretty clear that he's not appreciating the 'deal' he has with Brooke.

He would never have gotten the idea to come to the airport if it weren't for O, and when he saw the look on Brooke's face when seeing him there, he swears he could have kissed Owens feet. Because the smile on the brunette's face – before she faked total nonchalance – told him that this was gonna pay off, _big time_.

"So…" he says and grins crookedly. "You wanna go home with me instead of with Rachel and Owen?"

She pretends to think about the question but she smiles and he congratulates himself for dodging the Peyton issue so easily. He loves how easy stuff is with Brooke. No fighting, no drama, no clinginess.

Just plain ol' _fantastic_ sex.

He nudges her with his shoulder, as if saying 'how about it?' and she laughs and rolls her eyes. Flashes him a sexy smile that says a lot more than her next phrase.

"You're such a cocky asshole, Nate."

Then she calls out to Rachel. "Hey, slut-face? I'm hitching a ride with Scott. See you later, okay?"

Rachel chuckles knowingly and Owen turns and gives him thumbs up. And he doesn't need more reassurance so he grabs Brooke's heavy ass suitcase and starts hauling it towards his car.

"What the hell do you have in here, Davis?" he asks and she goes as far as pinching his ass.

"French lingerie" she smirks. "A _lot_ of it too."

Suddenly he walks a lot faster. He can't wait to get home.

---x---

_**September 2**__**nd**__**, 2006**_

"Owen, stop it," Rachel laughs and tries to push the 6'5 quarterback off of her as they enter the room. "B, help me!"

Brooke smiles and looks up from where she's seated on Rachel's bed reading a magazine. It's not that often that she hears her redheaded friend laugh uncontrolled like this and it feels good. Owen is _good_ for Rachel, no matter what Rachel says.

"Help yourself, whore," she smirks. "You want it and you _know_ it. Just don't get naked while I'm still in the room."

Owen chuckles and wrestles Rachel into a corner and she closes the magazine and gets up. Time to go. Rachel and Owen need their privacy, they haven't seen each other since she and Rachel got back from France two days ago. Owen had pre-season training and now they probably want to 'catch up'.

Somehow she's jealous.

"I'll be downstairs," she says and grabs her cell phone off of the nightstand. "I need to stay out of mom's way for another hour until she and dad leave again."

Rachel finally manages to push Owen off of her and for a second she looks serious.

"Domestic crap?" she questions and Brooke gives her an almost unnoticeable nod that makes her feel torn. Owen licks her earlobe and she shivers, but she keeps her eyes trained on Brooke in search for any evidence that Brooke needs her.

"You okay?" she asks probingly and Owen breathes warm air into her ear. She pushes him off again and waits for a response.

It's just how it works. Hoes over Bros.

But when the brunette keeps smiling and winks, she relaxes and leans back on Owen more comfortably.

"My house is your house and you know it, slut." She waves towards the stairs to the first floor. "Binge out on ice-cream, empty the liquor cabinet, hey, watch dad's porn for all I care. We'll be down in an hour."

Brooke makes a disgusted face about the porn and heads for the door. She likes Rachel's house - at least it has traces of actual parents living there – and she doesn't mind staying. But again something stings in her chest when she trudges down the stairs and the bedroom door slams shut behind her. Rachel's giggles mixes with Owens deeper laugh and then the sounds die down.

She knows why and she wishes she could have that. The closeness.

Sighing she lets the stray thought develop in the most forbidden direction.

She's jealous because she wants to be someone's girl too. She wants what Rachel and Owen have, even if Rachel refuses titles or whatever.

Buds over studs, sure. But however mushy it sounds; she wants her own boy.

She falls back into the downstairs living room couch and turns on the TV. Zaps between lame talk-shows and music videos that only seem to bore her even more. And then her cell phone buzzes on the couch beside her. The notice of a new text message flashes on the display and she flips the phone open.

_Wanna get 2gether? I'll b at Raye's house in 5._

A smile creeps up on her face unknowingly and she writes back; _And Peyton?_

She already knows that Peyton and Nathan aren't back together. He wouldn't text her if they were. So when his response beeps in her phone, she already has her shoes on.

_Screw P. I'm outside. C'mon._

Maybe the boy she needs isn't so far away after all…

---x---

_**September 12**__**th**__**, 2006**_

"Nathan! Remember, 20 shots - no less!"

Lucas watches as Dan Scott yells at the sidelines and he rolls his eyes. Sometimes he just can't believe that the man that's currently yelling his lungs out is his father. Dan is a maniac, and if Nathan weren't such an asshole, he'd probably feel sorry for the guy. But instead he just rolls his eyes a second time when Nathan jumps up from the bench and answers "Got it, dad."

_Dad._

Sometimes he wishes he had a _dad_, but in this life he makes due with having a 'biological father' that wants nothing to do with him. Instead he has his uncle Keith, and sometimes he thinks that between himself and Nathan Scott, he has pulled the longer straw.

"Quit yakking and warm up, Nathan! And stop ogling Peyton!"

Especially on days like this.

It's the first warm-up game of the season. Two weeks into the school-year and the first big game-night for the Tree Hill Ravens. And as usual he's in the Tree Hill gymnasium to watch, with Haley on one side and his mom and uncle Keith on the other.

He used to play in a team once, but that was in elementary school. Once he reached Junior High, Dan Scott became the Coach of their team and his _biological_ father just gave him too much crap. It hadn't been fair to his mom to worry about him like that and one day he just decided to quit.

He's not regretting it though. He's better off playing ball down on the River Court with Junk, Fergie and Skills. High School varsity basketball is too much of a popularity competition anyway and he's not that kind of guy.

"Hales, I'm gonna get a hotdog," he says to his best friend and gets up from his seat. "You want one?"

She nods and shoots him a goofy smile before yelling something to Mouth further away on the bleachers. The cheers and applause have already started and he walks down the steps. He doesn't need to see Nathan Scott get praised by his peers. He's seen that one time too many already.

But he stops again when the cheerleaders enter the gym.

He _doesn't_ have a problem watching them.

---x---

It's the first game of the season and when Brooke strolls out into the gym, followed by her own squad, she feels exceedingly proud. This is what she's worked for so many hours in this gym and the painted blue R on her cheek feels like the ultimate prize.

"Come on girls," she ushers and lets the wide cheerleader-smile cover her face. "Let's go!"

Rachel is beside her, Theresa and Bevin right behind and if now only…

"Brooke!"

Peyton jogs up behind her as they line up to welcome the Ravens Varsity team and she shoots off a bright grin towards the blonde.

She's actually missed Peyton over the summer and since coming back two weeks ago she has hardly seen Peyton at all. In school of course and at practice, but aside from that it's as if the blonde has vanquished in thin air. She hadn't even been sure that Peyton would show up.

But now; _Perfect_.

"Hey P. Sawyer," she greets and waves her pom-poms while flashing her dimples to the crowd in the stands. "Glad you decided to show up, stranger. Are you ready for game night?"

Peyton laughs and jokingly says "Am I ever?" and for a second it's like the negativity that Peyton displayed last semester is gone. It feels nice. Normal.

She knows that the 'deal' she's had with Nathan over the last 3 months probably will be the last drop that throws her karma completely off balance. She's not supposed to sleep around with him even though it only happens when he and Peyton are on breaks. After all, Peyton is her oldest childhood friend…

Junior year was supposed to be a year for new chances. _Changes_. Because she desperately needs to better her karma from last year. She planned on ending the thing with Nathan and play nice with Peyton, but lately she's been thinking that maybe there are other ways she can be a good friend. Peyton doesn't love Nathan anyway and maybe the blonde could go back to being the P. Sawyer that she used to be if she didn't fight with Nate 24/7.

Then again, maybe it's just wishful thinking.

She waves to the people on the stands and arranges her girls in lines. And when she's led them through a cheer and they're just waiting for their Ravens players, she turns back to Peyton.

"Hey goldilocks, where have you been the last couple of days? Rachel and I called you. Duke held a killer party."

Peyton shrugs and mumbles something about her father being home. Then the guys on the team come pouring into the gym, putting an end to their discussion before the blonde has time to really answer.

Rachel gives Peyton a curious look and raises an eyebrow towards Brooke. Peyton is hiding something, she can't deny that. But what? She keeps her eyes trained on the blonde when Nathan runs by to see if the couple's had a rekindled spark or something, but she seems as nonchalant as always. On top of that, Nate doesn't even look at Peyton. Instead he looks at her.

And if Rachel would know what she's thinking right at that moment, her redheaded friend would slap her. Because she actually _melts_ when he smiles. How freaking _silly_ is that?

"Give us a win, Nathan." Theresa squeals behind her and she rolls her eyes and sends Peyton a sympathetic look. Especially when Nathan sends Theresa his most charming loop-sided grin and calls back "For you then, _Resa_."

"Asshole," Peyton mumbles and Rachel snickers, probably because the redhead is sure that she knows what will happen now that Peyton once again has dumped the star player, after being with him for merely three days. But Brooke silences her with one look. She doesn't want to think about him being with Peyton at all.

"Let's go Ravens!" she yells, both to warm up the crowd in time for ball-drop and to cut off Rachel. And when Nathan smirks at her from the middle of the court she simple shakes her head and teasingly nods her head towards Theresa.

Nathan smirk grows wider and he shakes his head as well. Groaning, she suppresses the tiny somersault inside her belly and goes back to cheering. If Nathan plays as gloriously as usual, the game should already be in the bag.

"_Another_ basket by Nathan Scott!" the announcer-voice reports in the speakers. "He really looks sharp out there tonight, ladies and gentlemen. And now a steal by the ravens. They'll go on the offensive. Coach Whitey Durham urges them on and… Tim Smith - he's got Scott! And Scott hammers it home! He's already got 14 of the Ravens' 20 points."

Brooke waves her pom-poms higher, thinking that tonight might turn out better than she thought, and when Nathan runs past them to cut off the other team's point-guard, she turns around and flashes her cheer-bloomers.

The other player loses focus and Nathan baskets another 3 points.

Rachel bursts out in laughter, Peyton snorts annoyed and the crowd cheers louder.

Yup. Things were most definitely going to be awesome.

---x---

They lost the game, and it's all his fault. It started out so good and if he hadn't been trying to piss his father off by flubbing his shots, they could have racked up a much higher score. Now his shooting average has plummeted down to 60% and his plan to piss Dan off has backfired. Because now the man looks ready to kill and it's only going to get worse.

He wishes he had someone to talk to, just someone who would sit and listen to him gripe about his old man. He doesn't need them to say anything in return, just sit and listen and then maybe afterwards say something that makes his mood change completely. He knows Peyton isn't that person, and the thought of it being Brooke is laughable.

But a small part of him is still hopeful. Maybe she'll surprise him, maybe…

"Just what in the hell did you think you were doing out there?" Dan comes barreling into the locker room like a charging bull. "You purposely blew that game!"

Irritation consumes him, "Get outta here, dad. This isn't your locker room anymore. You should find a job as a janitor." He scowls.

"Nineteen points, Nathan, impressive." Dan scoffs and claps his hands. "The scouts will be thrilled, especially the deaf and blind ones."

Nathan looks away and shakes his head, he really hates when his dad gets like this.

"What a joke!" Dan roars into his face.

Annoyance soon bleeds into fury and Nathan dares to face off with his father, "No dad, actually _you _are the joke." He hisses. "I am not your ticket to the NBA, so get out of my face and go sit your tired old ass outside!"

"Why you little—" Dan grips his son by the front of his jersey and slams him up against the lockers at his back. Nathan grabs his wrists and tries to pry him away but it's useless because Dan has a firm hold of him.

Suddenly a loud bang slices through the air and everyone jumps and turns to see Whitey at the entrance with a wooden baseball bat. "Take your hands off my player, Danny."

Dan blinks over at his former coach and grunts in disgust. "He's _my_ sonold man," he shakes his head, "I can do whatever the hell I want with him."

"Not when you're in my locker room, you won't." Whitey's scowl deepens. "Now get out of here right now before they have to carry you out."

Dan's eyes focus in on the bat, as if he's weighing his options. Nathan can't believe his father is actually considering if he can in fact take on Whitey or not. It's sickening and even when his fingers go slack to release him, he's still disgusted. This is the man he's related to, this is his damn father.

"See you at home, _son_." Dan smacks his hand hurtfully against the side of Nathan's face a few times. He then smoothes the wrinkled front of his jersey, fixes his own jacket and respectfully walks past Whitey on his way out the room.

Nathan literally sees red. His entire body shakes from the unleashed anger he feels bubbling in his veins. There is no fucking way he's going home after this, he'll crash at Tim's house if he has to. There's a party at Fede's tonight anyways, a nice distraction. He hadn't planned on going but now that he can't go home it seems like a pretty sweet alternative.

The rest of the team refuses to look at Nathan, and he thanks them for that. Otherwise he'd have to get ugly with them and possibly say things that would make the atmosphere even more uncomfortable. Whitey gives him an understanding look and in return Nathan nods his head at his coach.

"Alright, shows over. Practice, 5am sharp. Now go get clean, you guys _stink!_" Whitey orders them.

They hit the showers in silence and no one dares to speak to him until they're outside the locker room again.

---x---

It's starting to get cold outside but Brooke still waits by Nathan's truck, shivering in her tiny little cheer skirt. She should have reconsidered that ride home with Rachel, but she'd seen how badly the team had played tonight and she wants to make Nathan feel a little better about himself. Losing the first game like this, and in front of his _dad_…

Well, she also really, _really _wants to get laid.

The doors in the truck unlock and she peaks over her shoulder to see Nathan making his way over. His face is void of emotion and she almost takes a step back when he approaches her without a greeting. She's confused that he barely acknowledges her and instead reaches to open the car door without so much as a lingering glance.

This is _not_ the Nathan she's gotten used to the last couple of weeks.

"Hey hotshot, you can't win them all." She says and leans up close to press herself into his side, "But you can still take home the prize if you're lucky…" she purrs and trickles her fingers over his chest.

To her shock he slaps her hand away with a scowl, "Is sex all you ever think about? God, you're just like Peyton sometimes and I swear it's as if I never broke up with her." He shakes his head and brushes past her to jump into his truck.

But she stops him before he can get in, "What the hell is up your ass? It's just a _game_, Nathan." She replies in disbelief. She knows he takes basketball seriously. But jeez… she's only trying to get his mind off things.

"Just a game?" He turns around slowly to face her. "Just a _game_? Really? Do you know who my father is, Brooke?" He snaps at her. "You know what? Fuck this, I'm out of here."

"Wait," she reaches for him again, "how am I supposed to get home?"

He shakes his head and shrugs, "Guess you should have thought about that one, huh?" He shuts the door and starts up his truck.

She stands in the middle of the parking lot and watches him peel out down the street recklessly. All the while she can't believe she allowed him to treat her like he did. Like she was disposable, like she was… _Peyton_.

Silently she thanks him for showing her his true colors.

---x---

The party at Fede's house is in full swing by the time Rachel walks through the door. Brooke is still being a buzz kill at her side but she refuses to let her negative energy affect her. Owen is out of town, and their agreement of guilt-free hook ups is only good for tonight. She scans the crowd for possible prospects and sees no one of interest.

"I told you he was an asshole" she grunts to Brooke and pulls her along through the party towards the kitchen. "I don't know why you're so shocked anyways. I mean, he's hot and all but you've seen him in action plenty of times."

"Yes, but he doesn't act like that with _me_." Brooke snaps and jerks her hand back from Rachel. "I don't even want to be here. You're not going to hook up with anyone here anyways, and you don't even _want _to. You just think you have to because you don't want Owen to end up being your boyfriend—which he so _is_ by the way!"

Rachel's emerald eyes blaze, "You know what, Brooke? Go fuck yourself. If you want to be a bitch tonight because you got burned by Nathan, than go right ahead. But do it as far away from _me _as possible or so help me I will kick your fat ass into next week!"

"Fine," Brooke snaps.

"_Fine_," Rachel hisses back.

"Fine!" Brooke shrieks and shoves past her out of the kitchen.

But when she emerges into the living room she spots Nathan all over one of her cheerleaders. It shocks her to the point that she doesn't even notice that her body temperature has heated up almost 10 degrees. All she knows is that come Monday Theresa is going to wish she were never born. Because practice for her is going to be hell on fucking earth.

Nathan pulls up for air and Theresa giggles, Brooke shakes her head in disgust and walks past them without making herself known. But Nathan smells her perfume and quickly pushes off the girl in front of him. She whines and tries to pull him back but he tells her that he's bored and leaves her sitting alone and sullen on the couch.

"Davis, hey," he grasps her wrist after following her into the hall that leads to the back of the house. "Wait up," he laughs and she can smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Get off me," she shoves him away from her. He had his chance and she's done now. If he wants to get with Teresa then she's sure as hell not going to stop him.

"What's wrong with you?" he blinks in surprise and tries to grab for her waist.

"Oh you did _not _just ask me that," her eyes narrow, "you fucking left me in the parking lot at school, Nathan! You treated me like shit and then you…" she shakes her head in disbelief, "I am not Peyton."

"I _know _that, Brooke!" He barks angry. "And you know what else you're not? _My girlfriend_. So quit acting like you have any right to boss me around!" He roars in her face. "I don't need people telling me what to do. Not Peyton, not my dad, or Whitey and most certainly not _you_."

She chuckles, "Thank you, Nathan."

"What?" He scoffs.

She nods, "I was starting to forget who you were and I almost allowed myself to become somewhat attached." She shakes her head and grunts at the very idea. "Thank you for clarifying that decision for me." She turns to leave.

His alcohol daze starts to fade enough for him to know that he's making a mistake if he lets her walk away. "Brooke, wait." He shouts and starts to follow her, "I'm sorry B, don't go." He takes her hand and she pauses.

"No you're not," she scoffs, "you're Nathan Scott. You're _never _sorry." She slips her fingers free of his hand and shakes her head disappointed. "I can't believe I was almost fooled into thinking you could be something more." She whispers ashamed.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm a jerk. I didn't mean anything tonight. It's just been a really bad day. Okay?" He touches her face, "Come on, B don't be mad."

She snorts, "I'm not mad Nathan," she shrugs away from his touch, "because being mad would mean I actually _cared_." She rolls her eyes and leaves him standing in the hall alone.

Stupid boy.

---x---

It's a little different to drive the old yellow school bus. Different, since he usually drives a little red sports car that pretty much follows his every move, and this old thing shakes and rattles as if it would fall apart at any moment on the old dirt-roads outside of Tree Hill.

On top of that, it's fucking pitch dark outside.

Brooke had called him crazy when he came up with this and maybe it was all a bad idea. But he just wants to do something spontaneous and out of the ordinary. And he wants to kick the frustration he's still feeling. The game after-party at Tim's hadn't been enough and he needs a _real _adrenaline-kick.

Well, at least he's not drunk. _Anymore_. After his little 'confrontation' with Brooke, he had quickly sobered up. But all of his teammates are hammered, deciding from the loud laughter coming from behind him and the clinking of beer bottles. He _wishes_ he was drunk. It's just that the bottle of whiskey he's emptied does nothing for him.

"Do you think Whitey has noticed it by now?" Brooke snickers from a couple of seats back. "Your ass is _toast_ when he does, Scott."

Her raspy voice sends a lustful shiver down his spine and he smirks as if saying 'Who cares?' But honestly its ticks him off that she seems totally unfazed. Suddenly she's treating him like he's nobody. But it'll pass, he's sure.

Brooke isn't like Peyton, whatever he told her earlier. She doesn't hold grudges, she doesn't whine and nag and she doesn't bitch like the curly blonde. Come Monday, he's sure that things will be back to the normal way between them.

Vegas interrupts his thoughts by laughing and slapping a hand down on his shoulder in approval, but Fede clears his throat nervously.

"Nate, tell me we didn't just steal a school bus, 'cause this _feels_ like we just stole a school bus."

"Dude, we just borrowed it, all right?"

They're just having some fun and if his lame-ass teammates just relaxed a little it could actually _be_ fun too. Summer is over and they just played their first game. He knows that since they lost, this is the last excitement he'll get to have before his dad once again starts the freaking boot camp up. And for the millionth time tonight he wishes that he would have just let Brooke into his stupid car after the game.

Now he can't go back, because when he looks back into the rearview mirror, the dimpled brunette is sprawled over Matt's lap and her raspy giggle makes him clench his teeth.

At least he'll get one night without his dictator father and by tomorrow he's sure that his whiny blonde girlfriend will come crawling back so he might as well…

"So, Nathan, where's Peyton?" Ashley pipes up behind him. _Speak of the devil…_

Without as much as a raised eyebrow he just shrugs towards Brooke's little cheer-minion.

"Who knows?" he mutters and reaches out for Theresa who's standing beside him. He doesn't have a clue where his _ex_-girlfriend went after the game but _w__ho cares_? Peyton's been weird all summer.

"Why?" he adds in a condescending tone. "You need her for a cheer pyramid or something?"

Brooke giggles somewhere behind them and his smirk turns into a frown. Ashley blushes and looks back at her captain for approval but Brooke isn't paying attention. It's kind of funny how the cheerleaders run around Brooke like peasants around a queen. Then again, even though she's merely a junior, Brooke Davis is probably the queen of Tree Hill High. Just as he is the king.

A train-whistle blows somewhere but Theresa's tongue is licking his earlobe. He takes his eyes off the road and pulls her in for a deep kiss that tastes of tequila and lime. He prepares to get scolded. Yelled at by Brooke for cheating on Peyton or maybe even for not making out with Brooke herself. But nothing happens and he feels confused.

Theresa mumbles lame compliments in his ear, stuff like "You looked so hot on court tonight" or "I love your biceps…", and he keeps driving with half his attention on the road and the other half in her cleavage. In a last effort to make this night turn out somewhat normal he closes the gap between himself and the cheerleader and shuts her up by grabbing her ass.

"You talk too much, Theresa. Make yourself useful instead."

A bell is clanging and then that train-whistle blows again. Rachel comes up from the back of the bus and takes one look out the windshield before yelling; "What the _fuck_ Nathan! _Look out_!!"

At the last second he tears himself away from Theresa. One fraction of a moment later and they'd all be crushed under a train. At least now he has the time to yank the steering wheel and hit the break so that the bus stops with screeching tires a couple of feet away from the train-track.

Wide eyed, he looks up at Rachel and swallows. She seems to be the only girl in the bus that isn't screaming. Instead she juts her chin out and looks at him with anger.

"You're fucking insane, Scott," she mutters between clenched teeth. "You know that right?" Pushing the fiery bangs out of her eyes she seems to look around to see if anyone's injured. He can hear Brooke's angry outbursts from further back before Rachel adds "You wait until Owen hears about this, Nate. He'll kick your ass. You could have killed us for Christ's sake! And for _that_!"

She points at Theresa who sits on the bus floor with a trembling bottom lip and big cow-like eyes, and he almost laughs in the middle of it all. But then he hears the police sirens in the distance and he groans.

He's _fucked_.

There's no question about it.

---x---

Officer Wakefield is the typical easy middle-aged fool. It doesn't take her more than a few bats of her eyelashes, a slightly hiked up skirt and a couple of raspy compliments to get him to forget that she and Rachel were even on the bus. Then, when Rachel elbows her and whispers that she should add her infamous pout, he lets her entire squad off the hook without blinking.

But none the less, Brooke knows that she's damn lucky. Because she hears another officer say that Chief Wayman is on his way down to the station and he plays golf with her father. Had the Chief not been away on another call, she would already have her dad yelling at her on her cell phone and she would probably be packed up and sent to boarding school before the night was over.

On top of that they spot Whitey driving into the parking lot outside of the police station. But by then they are already in the safety of Owens SUV. For a second she feels bad about leaving Nathan behind to face the old man and she mumbles "Coach is gonna kill Nate," but Rachel huffs annoyed and she lets go of the guilt. Nathan is an asshole and it was his damn fault that they ended up in this mess in the first place. She had felt very tempted to leave Theresa behind as well.

As if reading her mind, Owen chuckles in the front seat, and Rachel slaps his arm angrily.

"It's not funny Owen! What if we had hit that train, huh? You wouldn't laugh then, would you?"

Owen quiets down but the amused smirk stays on his lips as he starts up the car.

"Calmate, okay Raye?" he says soothingly to Rachel and brushes a red lock of hair away from her friend's face with his free hand before turning on the car stereo. "It _is_ kind of funny if you think about it baby…" He turns and looks back at Brooke, winks teasingly. "Right, B? I bet Nathan almost drove off the road because you were messing with his head."

Involuntarily her frown deepens.

"Actually, that would be the little slut Theresa. I'm so _done_ with Nathan."

She doesn't even have to look at Rachel to know that the redhead rolls her eyes. And when Owen coughs out a very clear "Sure…" she simply pretends not to hear it. Neither Owen nor Rachel seem to understand that what she and Nathan had was just a sexual thing that had probably past its expiration date anyway.

She had been stupid to think it could ever be more than that and she's not gonna mope like some naïve little girl over something she should never have felt in the first place.

Nathan was good for fucking. Nothing more. _Nothing else_.

They ride in silence for a while and as the houses swoosh by, she slowly calms down. However messed up this evening has been, she can't help but giggle when she thinks about how Nathan must be squirming in front of Whitey right now.

"Coach is _really_ going to kill Nathan," she repeats and the bubbling giggle turns into a laugh. The more she thinks about it, the funnier it gets. He has himself to blame. Everyone had told him that stealing the bus was a bad idea. He should have gone with Teresa's suggestion instead. If he had, then he would have been in a Jacuzzi right now, probably getting a blowjob.

Owen nods.

"Yeah he is," he chuckles. "It would actually be worth the drive down here to save your little behinds if I had gotten to see the little punk's face when Coach Durham comes down on him. I actually feel sorry for the kid. He's gonna be benched for weeks."

At that Rachel starts laughing too and before they even reach Domino's on Main Street, they're all laughing so bad that the song on the stereo is drowned in the sound.

"I'll spring for pizza," Rachel gasps out between the giggles. "Just promise me that you'll let me taunt Nathan for this…"

Without any hesitation she agrees. Pizza or no pizza, Nathan will be hearing about this for a long time. She needs to get one up on him anyways.

---x---

Nathan knows that he's gonna be hearing about this for a long time. Or at least he thinks so until his dad suddenly walks in through the door right after Brooke and Rachel has run off with the rest of the squad in tow.

Dan takes one disappointed look at him before walking over to the officer in charge, and exactly four minutes later he walks behind his father out to the car.

Dan says nothing so he stays silent as well and it's not until they park in their own driveway that they actually talk. Or more precisely, that _Dan_ talks.

"I don't want to hear _one_ word about this, Nathan. You were not there, you knew nothing about anyone stealing a school-bus, and if anyone contradicts that, you refer to me. Is that clear, son?"

He nods with a smirk. Whatever, right? He's off the hook and Whitey didn't even see him at the police station so he should be fine. And really, how much trouble could his teammates be in? It was the team's own freaking bus so they should have a right to use it. Maybe not in the middle of the night but who the fuck cared…

"Can you get Vegas off too?" he mutters. "I need him on the team and he's gonna get benched for this."

"No."

"Whatever…"

He shrugs and starts opening the car door, thinking that Dan's going to change his mind when the team starts to lose, but his father grabs his shoulder and pulls him back.

"Listen! What your little friends get themselves into is _not_ my problem. _You_ are my problem. And the only thing _you_ need to remember is that your ass is going to be running eight miles before you get to bed tonight, so you better go in and get changed."

For a second he just looks back at his father in disbelief. _Eight fucking miles_?

"Come on, dad…"

"I'm serious. If the other guys get benched, then this is your chance to shine."

No mercy. The facial expression is too familiar by now. Stone cold, stubborn and without compassion. There's no use in even trying to change his dad's mind. Sighing, he just shrugs the hand off of his arm and steps out of the car.

Without even changing into sweats, he starts jogging down the block. Dan yells at him to speed up and he wants to run back and punch the guy in the face.

He doesn't though. And maybe it's good that he's angry. It's going to be a long night and he'll need all the extra adrenaline he can get.

---x---

_**September 13**__**th**__**, 2006**_

She's completely ecstatic when she comes rushing into the Café breathless. Wide, alert eyes and a grin so massive and abnormal he almost cringes in fright.

"What?" Lucas says from his spot behind the counter.

Miraculously, Haley's grin grows even wider, "Have you heard?" she's practically jumping out of her skin.

He narrows his gaze at her and wonders if she's on something. It's no surprise that her sister Taylor is in town, and the girl loves to party.

"No," he mutters, "what?" sighing, he slaps down the towel from his shoulder to the counter and wiping the already sparkling surface for a fifth time.

From where Haley stands, she can tell today is definitely one of Luke's dark, brooding days. "Dude," she scoffs and shakes her head, "it's only the biggest news ever. It's all over Tree Hill. Everyone who is anyone already knows."

"Guess I'm no one then," Lucas smirks bitterly and scowls at a dark stain on the counter.

"Oh spare me the dramatics," Haley grunts and jerks the towel form out his hands. "Nathan stole a school bus last night," she tells him and waits for a reaction.

"And?" Lucas deadpans.

Haley groans, "_You're killin' me, Smalls!_" she whips the towel out and smacks his side hard enough to make him flinch and hold his arm.

"Ow, stop," he frowns.

"Are you still all gloomy because Peyton almost ran you down again?" Haley rolls her eyes and sets her hands on her apple bottom, hips. "Get over it, Lucas! It's not gonna happen. Live in the now!" she tosses the towel into his face.

Snatching the cloth from his face, he glares down at her, "For your information, _Haley_, I have almost completely forgotten about last night."

"_Bull-crap!_" she coughs into a fist.

Lucas glowers.

"Sorry," Haley shrugs, "I'm allergic to liars."

The bell above the entrance rings and neither looks towards the door because they're both far too caught up in a death glare contest.

"Face it Luke, you're moping. Just like you always do when you get burned by Peyton Sawyer. The girl doesn't even know you exist, Lucas! Move on, already will you? Because I am sooo tired of listening to you whine." Her stare down grows darker and more serious with the fair haired boy across the counter.

"Bite me," he leans in and says.

Haley snorts, "Your maturity level astounds me."

"I hate you," he throws in being childish and pouts into himself by crossing his arms and turning to his side.

"You're ruining my gossip, Lucas!" Haley slaps a hand down onto the counter top. "Now shut up and pretend to care for once in your drama queen life!"

He grunts and rolls his eyes at her, "Why do you care if Nathan stole a bus, anyways? I bet he'll get nothing more than a slap on the wrist and be done with it." Lucas scoffs, "That jackass makes me sick."

"You and me both, sugar," a raspy voice chuckles from behind Haley and startles the best friends apart.

"Oh," Lucas blinks down at Brooke Davis completely stunned. She walks forward and behind her shoulder he can see Haley mouth: _What the f— _"So, how can I help you?" he turns to his customer and ignores Haley's confused face.

Brooke smirks and her dimples poke through adoringly, Luke knows this is an act she uses when she wants something. He knows because he's seen her use it multiple times before on guys at school.

"I was just passing by and when I looked over I saw you through the window and," she stops to laugh softly, "and suddenly I had this strange… _craving_."

Haley rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Lucas ignores her of course, his attention is glued to the brunette in front of him. He finds its almost impossible to look away. When she chuckles, its deep and eccentrically inviting, he finds himself being sucked in and unconsciously he leans across the counter closer.

"Well, what are you in the mood for?" he asks.

Over her shoulder, Haley makes obscene gestures and stops to giggle into a hand when Lucas sends her a glare and a firm shake of his head. She rolls her eyes and sighs in defeat like a scolded child.

"Hmmm," Brooke sets her hands onto the surface of the table top and looks up at the menu posted above his head. "Something sweet," she says and grins at him, "but also something that'll keep me on my toes. Got any ideas?"

"Well, we have a dessert menu somewhere around here. Chocolate cake, milkshakes, pie—"

"No," she shakes her mane and bites her bottom lip, "what I want is," she pauses and feigns embarrassment, "well it's sort _off _the menu, if you know what I mean?" she winks.

"Uhh," he his mouth runs dry.

Haley can hardly stand how brainless he's acting, as if he's never seen a scantily dressed girl before. It's sad really, how girls like Brooke could turn even the most intelligent boys to mush—not that Lucas was very intelligent to begin with.

"Hey, Luke," Haley blurts and balls up a flyer from the counter with her hands, "think fast," she tosses it at his face.

Hands flying up to block the hit, he reacts without thinking and snatches it with his left hand then pops it back up into the air and smacks it into the trashcan a few feet away. Haley blinks back at him speechless and Brooke's brow arches considerably.

"Well, well," she grins wolfishly, "I'd love to see what you look like on a basketball court. I bet you look even more sexy than you do now." She eyes him from head to toe and bites her bottom lip as she does so.

Luke's jaw nearly slaps down to the floor. Is Brooke Davis actually _flirting _with him? Unable to comprehend what's going on, he stands behind the counter completely baffled.

"I, uh, well… I, uh… I guess?" he ends up stuttering like a fool.

Again she grants him that throaty laugh of hers, "Relax, Lucas, I'm fucking with you." She chuckles louder and this time it's genuine. As of now, he knows two things for certain: she knows his name… and he's somehow amused her.

"Oh… okay?" he shifts on his feet somewhat uncomfortable.

"You're cute," she giggles huskily.

"Oh, I'm, uh…" _idiot!_ He almost slaps himself. Two seconds ago he was sexy and now he's downgraded to… _cute?!_

The door dings harshly and the clack of heels soon follows making everyone turn their attention to the front.

"B, what the fuck? I've been looking for your ass for ten minutes bitch! Owen's waiting at the house and he can't get in, let's _go_." She grabs onto the girls wrist and tugs.

Brooke's expression slides from prowess to annoyed in one fluid motion. Both girls glare at each other and engage in a silent argument of sorts. Lucas stands transfixed and even Haley is deemed speechless. Two of the most popular girls in school are standing two feet away communicating like extraterrestrial beings.

Haley wonders if they're somehow telepathic.

Lucas just can't stop staring at the enigma before him.

Then suddenly Rachel drops her wrist and rolls her eyes, "Same brand of gum, B. Just different flavors and packaging." She shakes her head.

Brooke's face remains as it is, _blank_.

"Let's go," Rachel mutters and turns to give Brooke her back. She doesn't bother to look back because she knows that the girl will follow. She's right and they both know it.

"You're a frigid, bitch Raye, you know that?" Brooke growls and hammers her heels against the hardwood floors on her way out the door.

Lucas blinks in confusion and feels somewhat disappointed. She left without so much as a glance in his direction or a whispered farewell. Haley steps up into view and snaps her fingers in his face and he flinches back a step.

"Hey," she replies with heavy sarcasm, "welcome back to Earth."

He shakes his head at her and looks back out the front window to watch Brooke slide into Rachel's black Denali. In that moment, Lucas feels anything but down to Earth.

But girls like Brooke had that effect on people he guesses.

---x---

It's after midnight when Rachel untangles herself from Owens warm body and tiptoes out to the kitchen to get some water. The door to the guestroom – where Brooke usually sleeps when Owen stays the night – is left ajar and she peeks inside to find the bed empty. So she ventures to search for the brunette.

It's not like Brooke to be up alone in the middle of the night. Frankly, the whole thing surprises her because Brooke is too scared of the dark.

But then she sees her friend at the end of the upper hallway. She sits in the window, arms wrapped around her legs and chin resting on her knees. Brooke is obviously looking at something and Rachel is dying to know what.

Instead of asking what Brooke is doing up, and instead of startling the brunette, she simply stops halfway and looks out another window in hope to solve the mystery without interrupting. And it proves to be both easier and harder than expected.

She instantly sees what Brooke is looking at but it just makes her even more curious.

Nathan Scott is leaning towards the fence down by the road and he looks like he's been there for a while. He's looking up towards the house in the same way that Brooke is looking down into the garden.

She just doesn't understand why.

"B," she whispers and she feels bad when Brooke visually flinches on the window sill and lets out a loud yelp. "What are you doing?" she continues in an even softer tone.

Brooke turns and looks at her, still with a hand over her heart as if trying to slow down her speeding pulse.

"Nothing," she mutters. "I just couldn't sleep."

Rachel frowns and looks down towards the driveway again, but this time there is no trace of Nathan.

"What was Nate doing here," she tries and walks the last steps over to Brooke. "Did you have another fight with him?"

"What are you talking about Raye?" the brunette mumbles and she realizes that the confusion on Brooke's face is genuine. So she stops and backtracks slightly, enough to be able to glance out through the first window, and she realizes that from the angle where Brooke sits overlooking the driveway, she couldn't have seen Nathan standing there, and he probably hadn't seen Brooke.

"Nathan was just down there," she says, feeling confused. "I thought you were watching him."

Brooke rolls her eyes and snorts. "Are you drunk or something? What the hell would Nate be doing here in the middle of the night?"

Rachel can think of several things that would make the dark haired Scott pay her house a nightly visit and all those things are tightly linked to Brooke and a bed. But Brooke looks so serious that she suddenly starts to doubt the whole thing.

Had she just imagined him standing there?

She shakes her head because she knows that she didn't. "Wanna come sleep in our room?" she says instead, "Owen sleeps like a log, we won't fool around anymore tonight."

But Brooke just mumbles a "No, its fine Raye. Go back to sleep," and it bothers her that for once, she doesn't know what's bothering her friend.

She thought it was Nathan, but maybe its not?

So she shrugs and turns to walk back towards the bedroom when she sees the red old truck that belongs to the other Scott, the blonde loser-brother. The truck drives by with seemingly no ulterior motive but this time Brooke obviously sees what she's seeing because a smile graces her friend's face.

Rachel just sighs and rolls her eyes.

"Stay away from that trailer-trash," she mutters annoyed and leaves the room before Brooke can even answer. She's not even sure why, but it just feels like Brooke is stepping out of the ashes, into the fire.

Worst part?

Brooke Davis _never_ listens to anything she says.

---x---

* * *

Thank you's:

Sadly we can't do long personal thank you's this time because Elena is 'computerless' and Lynn is getting her ass kicked at work. But we want to give shout-outs at least. And hopefully you all know how much your reviews mean to us. If not, we're telling you again. THEY MEAN SO MUCH!

**Amanda** (Ali-Chan1)

**Writer Writes Words**

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**Brathan for the win**

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One **thank you** that I (Lynn) have to push through though, is the one to my partner in crime. Everyone should have an **Elena** (Typokween) of their own. If not for writing kick-ass stories with, then just because she's simply _amazing_ and an awesome friend. I'd marry her if it weren't for the sucky time-difference. Like totally!


	6. Cheer Up, You Miserable Fuck

Author's note: Not much to say other than that it's Friday again and time for the weekly update. We couldn't be happier because you guys are awesome, Christmas is knocking on the door and we love writing this fic. ;) Merry Christmas!

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 5:** Cheer Up, You Miserable Fuck

**Junior Year**

_**September 15****th**** , 2006**_

Monday comes and Brooke hasn't talked to Nathan all weekend. Why would she? It's not like she's his _girlfriend_ or anything like that, and unless Dan has found out about the bus-stealing incident, he's probably been shacked up with her blond best friend. The couple is due to reunite any day now.

But out of habit she looks for him anyway and strangely enough, she doesn't see him in their first class. Neither does she see Vegas or Tim or Fede, and by the time half of the hour has passed, she starts to wonder.

She's over the silly thoughts from last Friday. She's not even mad at Nathan anymore, but if he's going to get yelled at for stealing a bus, then she sure as hell wants to see it.

Secretly she sends a note to Rachel and five minutes later they're both giggling in the corridor, equipped with hall-passes to go to the nurse. The moment she pushes the door to the basketball-area open she knows she's been right. The entire team is sitting with heads hung low at the bench and Whitey looks furious.

"Some of your parents see this latest incident as tomfoolery," his dark voice booms out in the silent gym. "A little prank…"

Brooke nudges Rachel in the side and smirks. Poor Nathan, now he'd get his first official punishment on a basketball-court. She bets that he's about to freak out because Dan's going to strangle Nathan when he finds out about this, that much she knows. But when she turns to look at him, he meets her eyes with a cocky smirk and her own smile grows wider automatically. Nathan Scott looks so damn hot when he's cocky that it's almost unreal.

"_Personally_, I see a little breaking and entering," Whitey keeps going in the same cold tone. "Chief Wayman sees possession and consumption by minors and a smidgen of grand theft auto. That said, I think it's time I make the message clear here…"

There's a dramatic pause in the Coach's little speech but Nathan doesn't even seem to be listening, instead he has the nerve to give her the nod that means 'lets hook up after this' even though she knows he's back with Peyton.

She shakes her head and sticks out her tongue. He knows better than to even try that, but she's curious to know how he can be so unfazed. His smirk is almost vicious and feeling confused, she turns to Rachel who chuckles at her side.

"Why isn't he worried?" she whispers. "The asshole is propositioning me when he should be busy sweating…"

"I bet Dan got him a free 'get out of jail-card,'" the redhead mumbles back quietly and she nods. _Of course_ Nathan's father had pulled some strings. The other option – Nathan getting benched – isn't really an option in Mr. Scott's agenda for his son.

"Daddy's boy…" she mouths to Nathan with a teasing raise of her brow and the guy actually chuckles. Whitey however, seems less than amused, and he gives her and Rachel a stern look before continuing.

"The following players were not involved and will _not_ be reprimanded -- Jake Jagielski, Ruben Gutierrez, Tim Smith, and Nathan Scott."

It seems like Rachel is right and truthfully she's relieved. Cheering without Nathan on the court would just be plain boring.

She winks at him in a flirty fashion and he grins wider. But then Whitey drops the bomb.

"As for the rest of you, _all _players involved are suspended from extracurricular activities -specifically basketball - for the rest of the season."

For a second or two it's quiet enough to hear a needle drop. Then the reality seems to dawn on everyone at the same time and the tense silence in the gym is traded for angry protests.

'_All players'_ means the rest of the team.

Again she looks at Rachel but this time neither of them smirks. If Whitey is serious, then Tree Hill High won't have a basketball team this season. All the seniors are suspended, and even with just juniors and sophomores, four players is still one short of a full line-up.

And without a team… who will they cheer for?

"Fuck…" she gasps and covers her mouth with her hand.

If Whitey doesn't change his mind, Tree Hill High won't need a Cheerleading Squad either. But then she thinks of something and she snaps around to look at Rachel with wide eyes.

If Nathan knew what she just thought of, then he would _not_ be such a happy camper.

---x---

_**September 18**__**th**__**, 2006**_

For as long as Lucas Scott can remember he's had a crush on his dream girl. But he's never actually been able to put a face to whoever that girl was. And that's because he's made her up.

He thinks that Peyton Sawyer could quite possibly be that girl.

She has to be. She's perfect. Her hair shines like gold and springs like an innocent child's coiled locks. Her eyes match his in color but not by intensity. She holds behind those lashes an entity so fierce he's sure that the day she opens up there will be fireworks.

"_Stop_," he hears her hiss under her breath to Nathan from across the table in the school library.

"What?" Luke cringes upon hearing his half-brothers deep baritone. "I'm not touching you, chill out."

"Ow!" Peyton yelps and half the class turns to look at her. "Damn it Nathan!" Her hand whips out to strike him in the shoulder. "That fucking hurt you jerk!"

"I didn't _touch _you!" Nathan slams back. "You're tweaking out, Peyt. Calm the fuck down." He scowls.

Across from Peyton a mischievous brunette bites her lip, her shoulders tremble from unleashed laughter and the redhead beside her giggles into a hand.

"Damn it, Davis!" Nathan snaps and throws her a fiery look.

Brooke Davis.

"What?" She innocently shrugs.

"Yeah, Nathan. Quit tweaking out." The other girl smirks devilishly.

Rachel Gatina.

He should have known. Its common law in school that the two cheerleaders love to start trouble. Lucas has never been involved in any of their schemes—_yet_—but he can't say that he's never been curious. Because where Peyton is soft and fragile, Brooke is rough and edgy. She holds with her a presence that is unstoppable and Lucas has to say that he envy's her powerful energy.

After the other day when she came into his mom's café, he's been watching her a little more closely than before and he has trouble making up his mind about her. He can't seem to decide if she's evil under that sexy surface, or if it's a façade.

"Scott."

The Raven's basketball coach enters the room and the chatter falls flat.

"What's up, coach?" Nathan lifts his head up and looks away from his glowering girlfriend.

"Not you," Whitey grimaces and turns to point a finger at the last person anyone in the room would expect, "_you_."

The first thing that comes to Luke's mind is: _me?! _But he puts up a cool front and stands up from his spot at the table. He can see everyone's eyes on him, and he can especially feel Peyton's penetrating gaze. But what he doesn't expect is to see a knowing sparkle in the hazel eyes of Brooke Davis.

_What are you hiding, crazy girl? _He almost finds himself asking her out loud.

Rachel rolls her eyes with a bored expression and it doesn't surprise Lucas at all. The girl never shows any kind of emotion unless she's mad and luckily that isn't one of her sentiments right now.

"_You_," coach growls at Nathan and shakes his head uninterested, "read a book or something."

He turns and catches Luke's gaze then nods his head out the door for him to follow. On Luke's way out he takes a look back at the giggling girls who now poke fun at Nathan. Brooke jerks her face to the left to toss her bangs from her eyes and as he passes through the door he _swears _she winks at him.

But that had to be in his imagination.

---x---

She thinks her entire situation with Nathan is pointless. He'll never be who she wants him to be and yet she keeps going back for more. She's like a lab rat, continuously being shocked into submission. Grabbing at levers in order to produce food and water.

Only for Peyton, it's kind words and a smile. If she pulls the wrong one, she gets snapped at and left feeling stupid. In a way, she realizes she _is _stupid. She dumps him and when he comes crawling back, she lets him back in.

But lately their routine's become a little… different.

He takes longer between fights before he comes knocking on her bedroom door. He doesn't beg her to take him back, he just expects it. And more so, she realizes that _she _is the one who seeks _him _out now.

What the fuck?

"Careful," Rachel drawls brushing past Peyton to her spot in the girls locker room.

"Excuse me?" she scowls in return. She really can't stand Rachel, but she just can't seem to get away from her. Because ever since the scarlet haired hussy came to town she and Brooke have been almost inseparable.

_Especially _since the end of sophomore year. It's as if the two have formed some sort of secret pact. They whisper and giggle to each other, saying things Peyton doesn't understand and laughing about things Peyton wasn't included in.

"I'm just saying," Rachel shrugs before pulling her _Tree Hill P.E._ shirt over her head and adjusting her breasts to fit comfortably back into her bra cups. "You look like you're thinking really hard is all," she explains, "wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing," Peyton scowls and glares down at Rachel's exposed chest to indicate the large _hazardous _size.

"Jealous?" Rachel smirks then pauses and tilts her head, "or does it turn you on?"

Peyton rolls her eyes and turns the combination lock on her locker, "Not if you were the last slut on Earth."

Rachel laughs and shimmies out of her extremely short sweat shorts, "It's cool, I know you're into brunettes anyhow."

"Why don't you two just get a room and be done with it?" Brooke comes strolling into the locker room with a giant smile plastered across her face.

"Ha! Funny," Rachel fakes a laugh, "but I'm too good for Peyton. She should start small," she nods, "you know. Go for someone like… well, _you_."

Brooke wrinkles her nose, "Ew."

Peyton slams her combination lock into the back of her cubbyhole and the loud bang it makes everyone in the room except for Rachel jump in surprise. Brooke blinks in confusion and slowly worms her way in between Rachel and Peyton's lockers.

"What's up, Blondie? You were extra bitchy today during P.E." she asks curious. "You and Nate have a fight?"

"When do they _not _fight?" Rachel snips and shakes her head into her locker.

Peyton fights with herself not to shove the girls head in and slam the door shut on her neck. "Nathan's just being extra… _Nathan. _He's pissed about that new guy joining the team or whatever." She shrugs.

Brooke tilts her head sympathetically and touches Peyton's arm.

"I'm fine," she snaps at Brooke. "You can stop pretending to care now."

Holding up two fingers, Brooke makes a claw and hisses like a cat. "_Reeeow_, bitch! What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you could have called me this summer, Brooke. Instead you jet off to Europe with My-Size Barbie over there and totally blow me off!" she ends up barking into the shocked cheer captains face.

"Excuse me?" Brooke scoffs in sheer disbelief. "But I do believe that _someone _by the name of Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, left town with her dad without telling her supposed _best friend _a damn thing! So what if I left? At least I _told _you I was going. I had to find out through Nathan—of all people, Peyton!"

"The only reason he even knew was because I dumped his ass before I left!" she snaps back. "It's not as if I deliberately tried to hide it from you."

"Then what the hell, Peyton? Why didn't you tell me?" Brooke wants to know and Rachel goes about glaring at any of the girls who dare to blatantly stand back and watch the two girls argue.

"Because, okay?" the curly blonde groans. "I just…"

"You just what?" she snaps in defiance. "Tell me Peyt, what excuse could you possibly—"

"Because I didn't want you to come!" Peyton screams.

Everyone freezes for a few heartbeats before quickly shuffling out of the room. Rachel bites her bottom lip and grabs her purse to follow the rest of the girls out of the locker room. But she stops when she catches a slight tremor in Brooke's fisted hands.

"I just wanted to be with my dad, okay? Just _me_," Peyton replies quietly. "And I knew if you found out he was in town you'd run over to say hello and he'd end up inviting you along." She closes her eyes and drops her head.

"Whatever," Brooke mutters and shakes her head, "I have to get dressed."

"Brooke," Peyton rolls her eyes annoyed.

"I am not having this conversation with you right now, Peyton." Brooke's voice is stern. "I get it, okay? It's fine. It's… it's whatever."

"B," Rachel speaks up and Peyton turns to glare at her. "You wanna skip last period? I hear there's a 30 percent off sale at Macy's?"

"No," Brooke says without turning from her own locker across the way. "It's okay. I'm just gonna stick it out. Besides, I'm curious to see the new recruit at practice after school." She fakes a flirty face.

"You sure? Cuz afterwards Owens gon—"

"She doesn't want to hang out with you, okay? God!" Peyton shouts and slams her locker shut. "And no one cares about your stupid new conquest, Owen!" she adds on her way out the locker room.

Rachel watches her go and snorts, "Well damn, I didn't know we traveled back to sixth grade."

"She's just being like this because her boyfriend's an ass," Brooke defends her friend. A reflect habit Rachel's never really been able to understand. "She'll get over it, or he'll get over it. Which ever comes first."

"Skip sixth with me," Rachel comes closer.

"I told you already—"

Rachel shakes her head, "And I told _you_ to stay away from Lucas Scott." She snaps grabbing onto Brooke's forearm. "So let's go."

Brooke pauses and looks up at Rachel, "Maybe I want the gum with the new flavor and packaging. You ever think about that? Maybe that… _gum _is the FDA approved favorite choice!"

"And _maybe_… we need to stop using metaphors," Rachel rolls her eyes and steps back. "I'll wait for you outside." She leaves the room.

Brooke watches her go and while doing so she knows that both she and Rachel are fully aware that Brooke never listens. Which is why when she gets dressed and meets Rachel outside, she's not there. And her Denali is gone too, which leaves Brooke to believe that in some small microscopic way…

Rachel's given her the go ahead.

---x---

_**September 23**__**rd**__**, 2006**_

It doesn't make sense. Every time Nathan stops to think about it, it just doesn't make any damn sense. Why would Whitey suspend some of his best players only to add the bastard son of Tree Hill? Does he _want _to be the laughing stock of the league?

He's still pissed that Lucas will be joining the team. It's been five days since Whitey's announcement and he still can't believe it. Dan's been on his ass nonstop about getting this loser to quit the team and now he's gone and done something stupid.

_You can name the time and place. If you win, I'll quit the team. If I win, you crawl back in your little hole and you remember your place in all this._

He's not afraid of losing, because he's better than Lucas. No doubt about that. But a small part of him actually wants to know what the guy is about. Can he play? Could they both work together to fly through nationals and win the championship?

Dan says no. That _Nathan _is the only one who can bring his team to nationals and that Lucas can only get in the way. He hates how he sometimes can hang on his father's every word. The guy's a jerk and yet sometimes it's as if Nathan can't decide anything without him. Dan has him trained all too well.

So now as he prepares to lift weights in the exercise room in the back of the house, he grimaces and pushes himself to his limit. He's benching 170 and last week it was 160, next week he's going for 180. By senior year he should be at 210 or 220 at the most. Tomorrow night he's going to play ball on the river court with Lucas. _What a joke._

"Nathan! You have a visitor!" His mother calls from the front of the house.

He shouts for her to send them back and sets the weight bar back up into place. His biceps ache in protest of the sudden loss of strain and he rubs them. Nathan knows it's going to be Tim walking into the room at any second. Tim's more excited about this one-on-one with Luke, than he himself is.

But it's not Tim who walks into the room. It's Brooke. And she looks _pissed_.

"What's this I hear about you challenging your brother?" Her arms cross over her chest as she leans against the entranceway.

Nathan scowls, "Don't call him that."

"What? Your brother? Because he is." She shrugs.

"Don't start this right now, Brooke. I'm already on edge enough as it is. Peyton's being a real bitch right now." He growls.

"Yeah? Gee, I wonder why? Could it possibly be because her _boyfriend _has been a major jackass ever since the school year started?" Brooke taps her chin, "Or maybe because he wont stop obsessing over the new recruit?"

"What is your reason for coming here, other than to piss me off? I'm still technically with Peyton so…?" he looks up at her and shrugs then wipes his face with the towel that's around his neck.

Brooke glares back at him, "I came here _for_ Peyton. She's being extra-emo and I'm two seconds away from killing her. So will you please just drop this? Who cares if he joins the team? If this is because he likes Pey—"

"Please," Nathan scoffs, "if Peyton wanted that loser she'd have been in his pants by now. I think it's _you _who wants him. Is that why you want me to grant him access to the team? So you can screw him like the others?"

"Jealous?" She snips back. His face remains grim. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, "Look, I just want you to leave Lucas alone. Let him on the team, lose that game tomorrow." She shrugs.

He laughs, "What?" he laughs again, harder this time. "I didn't know you were funny," he suddenly stops and scowls.

"There are a lot of things about me that you don't know," she tells him.

He thinks back to their fight at Fede's party and how they haven't really been the same since. They haven't even hooked up. "Hey Brooke, there aren't any hard feeling about that night at Fede's party, right? I was just pissed at Dan and I took it out on the first person to talk to me. I'm sorry it was you." He frowns.

She rolls her eyes and ignores him completely, "Just lose that game, Nathan. You know as much as I do that with the team you have right now, you're screwed. Even _you _can't carry an assembly of rejects on your own. You _need _someone like Lucas."

"I don't _need _anybody," he snaps.

She smirks and steps into the room, her skirt sliding against her thighs as she slowly and seductively walks up to him. She places her arms on either side of him, her hands resting on the steal bar behind his head, "Whatever you say baby," she whispers. Her nose a mere half an inch away from his. "Think about what I said," her nose nuzzles his.

Then she's off and away. Leaving him behind in a cloud of her perfume. She's right, he does need another decent player on the team. But that doesn't mean he needs _Lucas_. What the hell game was she playing? Having that bastard on the team will not only screw him over royally but it will fuck up the entire school's normal routine. You can't crossover just like that. You have to work for it. He's yet to see Lucas prove himself.

He sits there in the room long after she's gone. Thinking and plotting and trying to understand what she is up to. How can he find the middle ground here? His father wants Luke gone, _Nathan _wants Luke gone.

And now he has one more reason to hate him.

---x---

"So, Nathan 'challenged' you," Haley air quotes as she and her best friend walk down the Tree Hill promenade towards his mother's café. "Are you gonna play him?" she arches her brow and side glances him curiously.

"I don't know," Lucas shrugs, "it's not like I have anything to prove."

Haley smiles because she knows Lucas better than most, "But don't you just want to show him sometimes—oh, damn!" she screams in a high pitches shriek as a flock of birds fly out in front of both her and Lucas.

"What is up?!" she shouts out again fixing her hair and pressing a hand to her chest to help calm her raging heartbeat. "I was attacked by a flock of crows last week!" she pants and leans into Lucas to catch her breath. She feels his body shake with unleashed laughter and she turns to lookup at him, "I'm totally serious!"

"I believe you," he chuckles.

She frowns, "Then why are you laughing?"

"Because things like that only happen to _you_," he presses his hand to his mouth and holds back another laugh.

"Dude, you could have lost your only true ally in this town," her hand flies out to smack him. "Then you would be best friend-less and when you played against Nathan, _no one _would cheer for you because I would be _gone!_"

Lucas knows her well enough to continue walking down the pathway, and soon she trudges up beside him in a huff but she's completely dropped the subject.

"By the way," he nudges her, "it's a murder."

"What?" her face scrunches up in confusion.

"More than one crow is a murder," he explains to her as if he's giving a Discovery Channel lesson.

Haley slows in her walk with him too toss him yet another baffled expression, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

He sighs and holds a hand out to enunciate his words, "A parliament of owls, an exultation of larks… a _murder_ of crows."

And now she gets it. Only instead of the light bulb flashing on over her head she simply realizes that her dear old friend is a bigger nerd than herself.

"You see," she points out, "I think that is why people think you're weird," she laughs and he smirks down at her, "_right there_."

They laugh and it hits him, "Ah, man. I would like to show him sometimes, though, what a mistake he's made." Lucas sighs and looks down at the sidewalk as they turn a corner.

"Dan?" Haley probes.

"Yeah," he nods. "Mostly for mom," he tells the girl beside him. "And...Sometimes for me."

"And Nathan?"

Lucas doesn't say anything in return and they both know the answer.

Haley takes a deep breath and links her arm with Lucas, "Cheer up, Charlie. It's like you said," she stops their walk so that he'll look at her, "they're not worth it."

"Yeah," he whispers and starts walking again.

She shuffles her feet to catch up then grabs his arm again, "So, Luke," she clears her throat, "what are ravens—I mean, more than one?"

He wastes no time answering this time when he says, "An unkindness."

---x---

_**September 24**__**th**__**, 2006**_

The river court has never been so filled with people. The grass around the court isn't green and fluffy anymore, because now it's smashed into almost nothing. Brooke looks to her left at Theresa who's giggling something into Ashley's ear. Bevin is bouncing on the balls of her feet and clasps her hands giddily. Rachel stands with her arms crossed while snapping away at a piece of bubble gum.

Out of the entire student body, Brooke, Peyton and Rachel seem to be the only ones who don't want to be here. But they have to. It's mandatory that the top three females come in order to stand beside their reigning king.

"And it looks like Nathan Scott has arrived, driven by car right onto the court," a small boy with wide lips says into a microphone a few feet away.

Brooke scoffs to herself and rolls her eyes as Nathan comes out of Tim's black mustang. Peyton scowls as Nathan brushes past her to slap the hands of his friends. And Brooke avoids his eyes because she knows he's silently searching the crowd for her face. Slowly slinking behind Rachel she frowns when her friend glares at her and shakes her head.

_No hiding, _she says without even opening her mouth to speak.

"Okay, folks, here we go—15 by ones. Make it, take it, win by one, and you can feel the intensity in the air." Their self-designated announcer replies and the bigger boy beside him slaps him five.

The game begins and Nathan slaps the ball straight from out Luke's hands after the toss. Everyone cheers except for the few who are actually here to see Lucas hopefully kick Nathan's ass. Truth be told, Brooke is one of those people. She wants to see Nathan go down, if only to bruise his ego and show him that he is not the almighty human that he thinks he is.

But Nathan continues to dominate the court. Racking up 8 points without even breaking a sweat. Making shot after flawless shot until suddenly it's as if a switch has been flipped inside Lucas.

"Wooo, let's go Lucas!" Brooke shouts out of the blue and several people stop what they're doing to stare at her in shock.

Nathan almost drops the ball in his hands. But he doesn't look at her. He won't give her that satisfaction if that's what she's gunning for.

"Brooke!" Bevin laughs, "You said Lucas! It's _Nathan _we're cheering for, _duh!_" She rolls her eyes and turns back to watch the game.

"What are you playing at?" Rachel slips up behind Brooke and mutters in her ear, "Are you actually _rooting _for that loser? Or are you just bored? Because there are _plen-ty _of other boys from the wrong side of the tracks that you can fu—"

"Would you shut up? I'm trying to watch the game," Brooke scowls and Rachel's brow shoots up in surprise.

"Whatever, it's your life." Rachel mutters and steps past her to stand with Bevin.

Brooke chews her bottom lip and tells herself that it's okay to hope Lucas wins. Because then he won't be an outsider anymore, and then maybe… then maybe it will be okay when she tries to date him. She's never really _dated _before and starting off with someone who has popularity potential like Lucas seems to be the best place to start.

She's not quite sure when Lucas Scott suddenly became more than just a blip on her radar. But she knows that it was long before recent circumstances that had brought him into the limelight.

No, wait. She can remember a particular time he had caught her attention. The night she'd been humiliated by Peyton's comic strip. He'd been the one to catch her eyes and stare into them long enough to make her feel his compassion.

Still, Brooke is usually the first to snatch up a boy with as much potential as Lucas. She's curious to know what the hell she'd been doing all this time to be so distracted as to not claim him sooner?

His broody stares and outright refusal to blend in with the popular crowd only seems to intrigue her more. He's an outsider. He is the one looking in on everyone else and watching from afar. He could perhaps know all of them better than they know each other. Lucas is the forgotten Scott—an urban legend that's come true.

He's gorgeous—and he has no fucking clue.

"This looks to be a battle, Mouth." Jimmy Edwards says to his best friend since first grade. Mouth grins back at him with eyes dancing with excitement and Jimmy raises a fist into the air, "Yeah! Yeah!" He cheers for Lucas.

Luke can hear the screams in his ears, it's deafening. Distracting even. He's never felt so damn nervous in his life. But on the outside he looks to be the epitome of cool, calm and collected. It unnerves his opponent and Lucas smirks over at Nathan, this is what he wants. It's _his _turn for once.

He makes another shot and Nathan's scowl deepens. Lucas hears the same raspy voice he's heard all night cheer his name again and looks over to the left. He catches a dimple-faced smile in the crowd and then suddenly Nathan's elbow is in his face.

He spits out a wad of blood and everyone stands around them in silence, "No foul. Basket counts." He tells Mouth and wipes his lip with the bottom of his shirt, "Besides," he adds staring Nathan in the eyes, "you won't score again."

As if to prove his point he glares back at him with the same intensity in his blue eyes as his half-brother. Somewhere behind them he knows Peyton is watching, _everyone _is watching. He can't lose, not now. Not when he can even the score and possibly knock this jerk down a peg or two.

"Nathan for the win…" Mouth starts, "Holy crap!"

Lucas jumps into the air and manages to block an amazing shot by the legendary Nathan Scott. With the ball back in his own hands he moves to left, the right and shakes Nathan off to rush back to the basket. He jumps—a perfect lay up—it goes in and he scores another point.

"Did you see that?!" Mouth shouts, "Someday men will write stories about that block. Children will be named after it. Argentinean women will weep for it." Jimmy snickers into his hands and Mouth grins, "Luke gets a basket, and he's down by—"

"_One_," Jimmy says into the mike.

"You're down by one, man. Don't choke now." A sly grin slips over Nathan's face. He has to admit, this is the most fun he's had in a while. It was nice playing against someone who could actually pose a legit challenge.

But he's not letting Lucas make that shot.

"He's never mentioned you man," he tries to get into Luke's head, "—not once in all these years." His eyes narrow.

Most people cheer for Nathan, and Lucas is not phased by this at all. He doesn't care about making new friends, or getting the girl, or even just to prove to Nathan that he has just as much right to be a Raven as he does…

"_Do you remember that?" Karen asked as she held a picture out for her son to see. Her baby, at Christmas holding his present in front of the tree happily. _

_Lucas nodded, " My first leather basketball. That was the year that skills' father told us there was no Santa Claus." He smirked. _

"_Yeah, and I tried to talk you out of it." She chuckled softly staring down at the picture. "Then you said something I'll never forget. You said you felt bad for the kids who never figured it out, because when they grew up and had kids of their own, there wouldn't be any gifts on Christmas morning." _

_She smiles at him and pulls him to her closer on the porch swing, " You're a good kid, Luke. But sometimes I feel like you're sitting out your life on account of me, and I don't want that for you. My past is not your future, okay?"_

Suddenly Lucas is at peace, the crowd behind him fades into nothing more than a soft hum. It's him and the ball, just like it is when no one else is around. Him, the ball and his river court… and the one who matter's most in his heart.

Lucas rolls the ball in his hands and looks back at Nathan, "This is for my mom." He tells him and jumps into the air to release the ball from his fingertips.

It goes in.

He hears Mouth shout a victory, he see's his best friend Haley smirk over at him from her spot beside Junk and Skills and he just feels… _peace_. No one can take this away from him, _no one_.

"So, what did you bet?" Comes Peyton's dry tone from behind, he spins around to see her standing with Brooke Davis and her infamous dimple-faced smile.

"I win, Nathan stays on the team." Lucas answers her as his eyes watch the two girls closely. Peyton looks stiff and uncomfortable and Brooke leans against her as if she doesn't notice it a bit.

"Why?" Brooke asks him, her head tilting slightly.

"Because it's the last thing he wants," he smiles. Peyton smirks and nods her head and Brooke looks proud of him. "And anyway, it's not about him." He shakes his head.

"Who's it about, then?" Brooke's brow arches considerably with her arm still linked with her best friend's.

"Peyton!" Nathan snaps from his place by Tim's car. Peyton rolls her eyes and pulls away from Brooke to walk towards her boyfriend.

Lucas watches her go and then looks down to the little brunette beside him. Her gaze is trained to the car and she doesn't look away until Peyton is safely locked inside. Rachel beeps her horn and Brooke sighs and turns to him.

"I'll be seeing you," she tells him softly and leaves for Rachel's waiting SUV.

---x---

* * *

Authors note: We know we said that we would write long and detailed thank you's this chapter, but here's the deal: either we'd put the update up today with the simple mentions, or we'd have to wait until possibly Sunday. So after some careful consideration, we picked the first choice. Ya'll should know though, that every – single – review that you guys send us means _everything_. And if you all keep spoiling us like this, then we might have to start updating faster than just once a week. ;)

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	7. Black Holes & Revelations

Authors note: We hope that all of you have had a great Christmas so far. We certainly did, and one of the best gifts for us was that so many of you are enjoying our story. Personal thank you's are at the end. Luv / E&L

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 6: **_Black Holes & Revelations_

**Junior Year**

_**October 4**__**th**__**, 2006**_

Suddenly they're a full month into the fall-semester. School is droning on like usual, basketball practice is back on, and Nathan thinks that this should be the case with his and Brooke's little arrangement as well. Thanks to Peyton's recent overflow of bitchiness, he should have been able to see Brooke almost whenever he wants lately.

Keyword: _should_.

But Brooke's been busy as hell with her new position as Captain of the Ravens Cheer squad and his dad has been riding his ass like a mad person to make sure he's in shape for this year's tougher practice.

He's had so little time that at first he hardly noticed the lack of interaction with his occasional brunette bed-buddy, but the last week it's starting to dawn on him that maybe she's avoiding him on purpose.

He's called Brooke several times since Peyton last dumped him but without getting an answer, and now, four weeks into the school year, he's not quite sure why that is. _She_ still calls when _she_ wants to. But it's not the same. Honestly it hasn't been the same since right after she came back from France and it's only gotten worse since that stupid fight they had.

He really wishes she'd come back around soon because he's so tightly wound up he feels like he's going to snap. He needs that ultimate release that he can't seem to achieve unless he's with Brooke.

Because Peyton just doesn't do it for him anymore.

He knows that he shouldn't have been so cranky when Brooke came over the other day and told him to lose the game, but usually stuff like that didn't matter with them.

Now as he sits in the quad waiting for the first warning bell to ring he sighs and sags down into the bench. He sees their newest team player walk across the lawn towards his locker and Nathan scowls. He cannot fucking believe that he is going to be sharing a court with Lucas. Not only that, but the guy is obviously gunning for a take over.

Most of all he can't believe that he fucking _lost_.

For the millionth time he wishes that they had never stolen the school bus. If they hadn't, then the team wouldn't be half a team short, and Whitey wouldn't have taken Lucas under his wing.

_Bzzt! Bzzt! _His pocket vibrates, still caught up in his thoughts he frowns as he takes his cell out and opens it.

_Since when do u come 2 skool early?_

His head whips around in search of Brooke. But she's nowhere in sight, the quad is filled with students but nowhere in the crowd does he see her. He'd recognize her anywhere, anyways because she has those distinct red lips and curves and her hair shines like the sun when it sets down over the horizon at the end of the day.

What the hell? The sunset… he shakes his head and laughs at himself. He needs to get laid because his stress level is turning him into a pussy.

_Skip 1st with me. _He quickly sends a text off her way.

_Y should I? _comes her quick reply.

_Bcuz P & I are dunzo and I wna get laid. _He responds without remorse, they don't hold back. It's just how they are, always have been so that there is never any misinterpretations.

Her next text pops up on his screen and he reads, _My car or urs?_

He grins and stands up from his spot at the bench. _Mine, ur backseat is 2 small. _He closes his cell and starts off towards the parking lot.

_Good, _her answer text says, _bcuz I'm already in ur truck._

He loves it when she reads his mind.

He just can't figure out why she all of a sudden acts like they've skipped back two months in time. It's been weeks since she got with him like this and of course he has to wonder 'why now?'.

But then he smirks and shakes the thoughts out of his head. Brooke Davis is probably half-naked in his backseat – what was there really to mope over?

---x---

_**October 8**__**th**__**, 2006**_

He's better than anyone has anticipated. Sure, his first game flopped but Brooke knew he'd find his grove and now he has. She shivers just thinking about that last shot before the buzzer. The moment that ball went in, _everything_ changed.

Because now not only will no one question her when she goes after him, but they'll be jealous. She loves having someone everyone wants but can't have. It makes her feel special because _she _has it and no one else does. It exposes her insecurities and the fact that she's shallow, but for the moment…

Who the fuck cared?

The doors unlock and she bites her bottom lip to keep from grinning. The car shakes a bit when he finally settles into the driver's seat and shuts the door closed. She counts to five and then licks her lips.

"Hey you," she drawls out huskily and surprises Lucas from the backseat of his mother's car.

Thank God he had finally arrived. Brooke was sure to freeze her ass off if she had to wait any longer. The mittens sat long forgotten on the tan leather seats.

"Oh," his eyes widen in complete and utter shock as he takes one look behind him and sees a half naked girl in his backseat, "I think you got the wrong car." He quickly looks away.

He's so adorable.

"Nah," she starts and tosses a mass of auburn hair over a shoulder, "don't mind me. I just have to get out of this uniform." She winks and starts to shimmy out of her cheer skirt.

Lucas takes a deep breath to help calm himself and stares forward out the car. But he can still see her reflection in the windshield and suddenly his mouth runs dry.

"So, uh, anyway, I'm Brooke. But you probably knew that even though we've never been properly introduced." She says into his ear and bites the end of her tongue. Her heart rate increases every time she catches his eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Can I tell you that, that last shot was awesome?" She asks with a perky smile. "How'd it feel? Good, huh?" She unsnaps the legendary leopard print brassier and drops it down onto his shoulder teasingly. "You know it did." She adds seductively.

Lucas is practically drooling where he sits. But he refuses to allow his hormones to control him. His mother taught him better than this, where the hell was his sense of self control? Suddenly there's a shadow to his left and his heart goes from pounding to dead still in seconds.

"Oh, my gosh!" Brooke yelps and flings herself backwards to hide behind his seat.

There are two slight knocks at the window beside him and Lucas tries to be sneaky as he slides the bra down from his shoulder to his lap. He can still feel the warmth of her body heat on the material and Lucas has to groan to himself silently. How awkward was it going to be to not only talk to his coach as if Brooke Davis is not naked in his backseat, but to also try and hide the massive erection in his pants?

But Whitey manages to make things even more embarrassing.

"That game wasn't horrible." He grunts with a face that looks half amused and half disappointed.

"Thanks, coach." Lucas mutters.

Whitey's eyes are penetrating as he narrows his fading blue irises at his new star player. "Well, don't turn pro yet. You drag your scrawny butt to the weight room twice a day, start now." He points serious.

"You got it." Lucas nods. _Please just go away!_

Whitey turns as if to walk away only to come back with a smirk. "Oh, uh... By the way, there's a half naked girl in the back seat of your car. I just thought you'd like to know." He tips his hat and leaves.

Brooke counts to three then comes back up, "Grouchy." She makes a face at his retreating figure.

Lucas only laughs in response.

"So, anyway..." Her attention is back on the task at hand. "You're in it now, aren't you?" She rests her chin down onto his shoulder and trails a finger up and down his arm. "When that last shot when through, did you feel it change?"

"Feel what change?" His brow curves in a way that she knows will remain in her mind for days to come.

"Everything." She shrugs and looks at him closely. "I mean, how many moments in life can you point to and say, '_That's when it all changed_'?" She watches as his face goes from blank to contemplative.

"You just had one." She whispers into his ear.

Lucas looks nervous. At least that's what Brooke thinks as she watches him bite his bottom lip and look away from her out the window. What she doesn't know is that Lucas has never in his entire life felt as turned on as he does in that moment. She's teasing him with her body. Taunting him with her words.

As beautiful as she is, she scares the shit out of him at the same time.

"But don't worry, baby." Brooke sighs wistfully and wraps her arms around his shoulders. "The popularity thing's not so bad." She lies into his ear and nuzzles the side of his face with her nose.

"If you know what you're doing." She adds as a warning.

She can feel his Adam's apple bob in his throat. Instinctively her hand slides up his well defined chest to press her small, thin finger tips along the nape of his neck. He shudders in her hands and she wonders if perhaps she should tone it down a bit. Give the poor boy a fighting chance.

"Do you uh," he clears his throat, "do you need a ride?"

Brooke licks her lips and chuckles, "I'd _love _a ride."

---x---

He's so pissed he can't believe he's not sprouting green hair and ripping out of his clothes to become a giant green Hulk. Who the _hell _did Lucas think he was?

And to top it all off, Peyton will not take a fucking hint and back off. She continues to try and tempt his mouth towards hers by pressing her chest into his shoulder and breathing into his ear.

But lately he just doesn't seem to be in the mood. At least not with Peyton, who just so happens to be his girlfriend. Did they have a word for something like this? _Over? Done? _He grunts to himself and crosses his arms over his chest tighter.

"Unbelievable." He says thinking of the way his classmates had immediately taken to Lucas after tonight's game.

"The guy scores 12 measly points and they act like he's Iverson. You know how many games I've scored more than that in? All but two. One of them, I had mono." He holds a finger up to emphasis his point.

"Well, you don't have mono now, do you?" Peyton moves to nibble on his earlobe. "Care to prove it?" she whispers and kisses his chin.

By now Nathan is usually ready to go. His hands should be all over her. She tries again with the ear nibbling and rolls her eyes. Now it just seems pointless. But Peyton refuses to give up. They haven't had sex into almost two weeks. What the hell was up with that?

"My dad's gonna hammer me." Nathan scowls and Peyton wants to jab a fist into his stomach and scream in frustration. "Something's changed." He adds with a look on his face that seems confused.

Peyton finally backs off, "With your dad?"

"No, with your room. Something's different." He squints at and makes a face that at any other time Peyton would think was cute. Right now it just makes her want to dig her nails into his face and leave tread marks.

Yet Peyton is the epitome of calm and collected as she sighs and leans back against her headboard beside Nathan. "It's my walls. I took my sketches down." She points out to him and for a second she's actually warmed by the fact that he noticed a difference in her room.

But then he ruins it when he says, "What sketches?"

"Get out." She growls and shoves him away.

"Whatever, anything is better than just sitting here." He frowns and pushes away from her to stand up from the bed.

"Well I was _trying _to do something more interesting." She rolls her eyes. "But you wouldn't shut your trap long enough to acknowledge that you could have gotten some just now." Her arms cross over her chest as she scowls up at him.

"Geez Peyton, don't you think about anything other than sex?" He scoffs and shakes his head in annoyance.

He exits the room and in the process leaves his girlfriend in a wide state of shock.

---x---

**October 9****th****, 2006**

Peyton swears that sometimes its as if the world is out to get her—one Scott at a time. Class has just ended and as she steps out into the hall she immediately storms towards Lucas' locker. Her fingers tighten around the strap of her shoulder bag and she contemplates whacking him across the face with it.

Then she's right beside him and acting on an impulse she slams his locker shut. "Just who the hell do you think you are?" she scoffs at him.

Lucas turns to look at her with wide eyes, "Someone you're pissed at?" he shakes his head confused.

"You submitted my sketches to THUD magazine," she snaps.

He sighs in relief, is this what her attitude is about? How cute. "And they liked them, didn't they?" he laughs softly and opens his locket back up to set his books inside.

"If I wanted your help, I would ask for it." Peyton continues her verbal assault.

His smile only widens, "Okay, no reason to get so upset. I'm sorry, you left them out in the open—"

"I threw them in the trash!"

"Public property, watch an episode of CSI, will ya?" he grunts teasingly and yet she doesn't seem to think it's funny in the least.

Her eyes narrow, "You just think you are so cute."

"So you think I'm cute, do you?" Lucas chuckles.

"What? No!" she backs up quickly.

Blue eyes flash heatedly and yet he finds it all so damn amusing. "It's okay if you do," he continues to tease her, "it's perfectly natural to find me attractive. You're a girl, I'm a boy. You think I'm cute and I think you're—"

"Hey, girl!" Brooke's cheerful voice breaks into their conversation and she bounces over and wraps an arm around Peyton. "Where you two flirting?" she teases.

"Nah," Lucas waves a hand, "we were just talking about _you_."

Peyton's eyes widen in surprise and Brooke's dimples poke out almost instantly. Where this burst of confidence emerged from, Lucas is not sure. All he knows is that two of the hottest girls in school are crowded around _his _locker right now.

"Were you, now?" she lets out a husky chuckle, "By the way, you didn't happen to find my, um—"

His hand reaches into his locker and his finger hooks the strap of her leopard print bra, and he dangles it in front of her like a Christmas ordainment.

"Thank you, gorgeous." She takes it from his hands and slips away.

Peyton casts one last glare his way then shakes her head at Lucas before she walks off to follow Brooke.

Feeling one last surge of bravery, he calls out, "You're welcome!"

But he's not quite so sure which girl he means it for the most.

---x---

Outside of school, down one of the farther corridors, Peyton quickens her step in order to catch up with Brooke. She misses the days when she could just walk up beside her, link arms and talk about anything that was on her mind.

But now when she links arms with her best friend, she hesitates to speak. She hates the fact that walking down the hall with her arm linked through Brooke's feels awkward. She fights back the urge to pull away and instead says, "What you got there?"

"What?" Brooke's grin is contagious, it always has been.

"You know what," Peyton hip bumps her. "The Brooke Davis 'leopard bra.' _Dude_, that thing's like a welcome mat." She reminds her friend who giggles and shakes her hair from her face. "Anyway, I heard you were naked in his car." Peyton continues.

"No," Brooke frowns, "I was partially naked. At one point I had mittens on cause it was cold. Oh, did you see my—"

"Okay, focus." Peyton tugs on Brooke's arm. "You're a slut in mittens. You're in his car… Then what happens?"

"Well, then nothing." Brooke shrugs. "He was really sweet. He drove me home, said 'Good night,' waited 'till I got inside…."

Peyton arches a brow, "Maybe he's gay."

"No," she disagrees, "I think he's just nice."

_Nice._ Peyton grimaces at the thought of any boy—let alone a _Scott _boy—being _nice_. She only knows of one guy who breaks the mold and he's as untouchable as he is perfect. But Lucas seems to be an agreeable alternative. She just wishes he wasn't so… so…

"Anyway, it's gonna be so great when he sleeps with me!" Brooke adds and Peyton laughs.

Wasn't so _claimed_.

"Come on P. Sawyer, let's go grab a drink. I'm jonesin' for a white mocha," Brooke pulls on Peyton's arm and directs her towards the parking lot.

The curly blonde frowns and nods her head, she could use some caffeine. Especially since she's been unable to sleep due to the fact that her life has suddenly come crumbling down all around her. And the fact that Nathan is being extra assy lately doesn't help.

So she's actually kind of glad to spend some time with Brooke, because she totally needs to rant and rave about how much Nathan Scott sucks.

---x---

Brooke is trying to be understanding. She is, really she is. But Peyton is starting to sound like a whiny bitch and she doesn't think she can stand another moment alone with the girl. Best friend or not.

"Then break up with him," she says. "It's not like it would be groundbreaking news."

Bored, she picks up her cup to move it in a circular motion. She does this to stir up her now deluded caramel mocha and sighs because she hates when the ice melts before she's finished.

But Peyton just drones on as if Brooke hasn't spoken a word and she regrets the decision of leaving Rachel at the mall to hang out with Peyton.

The only reason that she had come was to tell her about her backseat-hiding in Lucas' car last night, but as opposed to Rachel, Peyton hadn't been the least bit interested. Aside from the two second inquiry in the hall at school. Now in a new setting she actually seems more irritated than pleased. And instead of asking for details, like she had before, she had launched into this hour long monologue about Nathan Scott, the worlds crappiest boyfriend.

Sometimes when she hears Peyton say Nathan's name Brooke feels a tiny pinch in her stomach. So tiny it almost isn't there. It's as if just by saying his name she can invoke things that are so deeply buried that they almost don't exist. She knows she should feel more guilty, but she just doesn't. Because it's hard to feel guilty about something that has been so thoroughly suppressed.

Her hip vibrates and she throws her head back to thank the heavens for this distraction. But when she pulls out her cell and sees Nathan's name flashing across her screen, she's positive this has nothing to do with God. This is truly the devil's work and she tries to resist the temptation but she just can't.

"Yeah," she answers on the third ring—completely cutting Peyton off in mid-sentence.

"She there?" He grunts.

Formalities had never been their thing, even before things had gotten complicated.

"Maybe, what's it to you?" Brooke's tone is careless and completely nonchalant. She even goes as far as to check her fingernails in the sunlight. She needs a manicure.

"I need to talk to you," he mutters.

"So talk." She shrugs and ignores the death glares Peyton is throwing at her.

She absolutely hates when Brooke takes a phone call when in her presence. She finds it so rude and obnoxious. Yet she also finds this sort of behavior so selfishly typical.

"Let me rephrase that," Nathan growls from deep within his throat, "I need to talk to you in _person_." The low grumble is threatening and she can picture his face. In a weird way it actually excites her. Plus, she's really curious. It's not like Nathan usually calls her when he's not broken up with Peyton and she can't help but wonder what he wants.

"Yeah well, I'm kinda busy right now," she mutters.

"Damn it Brooke!" he shouts and she's so shocked from his outburst that she actually flinches. "I'm being serious here. Ditch Peyton and meet me at the river walk."

"Hmmm, too public for my taste." She purses her lips and leans back in her chair. She watches as Peyton presses buttons on her phone with a frown. She's clearly texting Nathan. "You've got mail," Brooke smirks just before Nathan curses.

"Are you gonna come or not?" he snaps ignoring the text.

It's because he suddenly sounds so desperate that she reluctantly agrees. Or at least that's what she tells herself when she hangs up and grabs her purse. Peyton doesn't even protest when she tells her she's leaving.

Again, Brooke knows she should feel more guilty for running off to meet with her best friends boyfriend. But she doesn't. It's sneaky and it's deceitful and because it's all these things a shiver makes down her spine.

If this was Eden, then she's Eve and Nathan is dangling the apple. She knows she should resist temptation and just walk away. But she can't.

As usual, she just can't.

---x---

He's pacing back and forth on the boardwalk and he keeps glancing at his wristwatch. It's a quarter to five and he's been down here for over twenty minutes, making it exactly half an hour since Brooke said she'd 'be right there.' Right _where_? New York?

He's surprised at how annoyed it makes him that she might stand him up. It's happened before after all, and with Brooke Davis, one just doesn't know what to expect.

She has a perfect masquerade, even on the rare occasions that they're alone in a room or a school corridor. Not one glance is out of the ordinary since they slept together at her captain-crowning and the rules were laid out. Not one hint or whisper. Yeah, so she has maybe avoided him the last couple of weeks, taken aside that morning in his car, but he had still thought that their arrangement was on.

He had been stupid enough to think that the next time Peyton dumped him, Brooke would be waiting.

Then this morning he heard Bevin tell Theresa that Brooke had 'claimed' the team's newest star-player after the game last night, which pretty much brings him to the biggest reason that they need to talk.

One of the two big reasons…

"You're gonna create a ditch in the sidewalk if you keep pacing like that, Scott."

He spins around and she's there. Casually leaning towards the beach-walk railing as if she's the one that's been standing here for twenty minutes, not the other way around. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her eyebrow is raised in a condescending way.

"Where the fuck have you been?" he grunts and looks around to make sure that no one they know is around. "I've been waiting for your ass to get here for almost half an hour!"

"Yeah? Ask me if I care."

She hoists her purse up on her shoulder and flips her head to get the hair out of her eyes. She's always so cocky and right now it annoys the hell out of him, but at the same time he can't help but hear Owen's voice inside his head.

_I can see why you want her, Preppy… Guys like you and I, we need girls that gives us a challenge. And lets face it, when it comes to Brooke, you have to fight to be on top._

Maybe he hadn't understood Owen fully then, but he sure does now.

She looks at him curiously and bites the tip of her finger. And suddenly he doesn't even know where to begin. All he knows is that he's angry.

"Is it true that you were naked in Lucas' car after the game last night?" he asks, and when she shoots off a wicked smile, he unconsciously balls his fists at his sides.

Her brow rises higher, only this time it's accompanied by a smirk. "And if I was?"

"Then I'd say I was surprised but then again—it's _you_." He scoffs.

"And what the hell is _that _supposed to mean?" she hisses back at him through clenched teeth. Her eyes are tinged with burning embers that could ignite into flames at any moment. He'd like to say that this did nothing for him.

But he'd be lying.

"So, did he fuck you?" He shrugs nonchalant with his arms crossed over his chest.

He doesn't even know himself why he's so angry. He has no claim on her. But somehow the thought of Lucas' hands on Brooke's body makes him almost nauseous. When she doesn't answer, he takes a step closer.

"Did he?" His tone becomes a deep growl.

"Why do you care?" Brooke's eyes search his face for answers she cannot seem to find.

Nathan keeps his face expressionless and she begins to look a little annoyed, forcing him to mutter a useless "I _don't_."

But she keeps her eyes locked on him and she says nothing. Her lack of a formidable response must mean that she had been in his car, right? So he growls; "Is that why you've avoided me for the past two weeks?"

Because she _has_. And yet she hasn't. Nothing has actually been out of the ordinary since he has been with Peyton and they never hook up when he is, but it still messes with his brain because he'd been sure that she would bend on the whole Peyton-rule eventually.

She has never seemed to feel guilty about their 'meetings'. Even when he got back with her best friend mere two days after their first drunken hook-up, she hadn't even lifted a brow. And during summer, hooking up when he and Peyton were on their breaks had become habit.

At least up until his bastard brother entered the scene and decided to interfere.

"Are you delusional?" she asks in disbelief of his stupidity. "I haven't _avoided_ you. We _never_ hung out to begin with, Nathan. We fucked occasionally, that's all." She puts her hands on her hips and juts her chin out. "I haven't changed a damn thing in my normal day to day routine. You are still my best friend's assy boyfriend—nothing more."

"I'm breaking up with her."

The words just tumble out of his mouth before he even has time to think about what they mean, and Brooke's smirk turns into a frown.

"What? W-why?"

However dumb her question seems, it also seems sincere and he laughs dryly.

"Why _not_? You know that me and Peyton suck together. We've been on and off more times than…"

"Yeah, but you _love_ her. You've been together forever."

Brooke's eyes are void of emotion and whatever answer he could give gets stuck in his throat. Does he? Love Peyton?

"I don't think it's ever been about love between me and Peyton." He shakes his head and takes a step closer to her. "Brooke—"

She interrupts him quickly, for some reason she fears the words that could have come out his mouth.

"Just stick with the blonde, Nate," she says and throws her hair back with a blasé flip of her slender neck. "I'm going for Lucas anyway."

Nathan looks a little dumbstruck. He's probably never experienced this before. Or scratch '_probably'_ – she knows him well enough to _know_ that he hasn't. Still only a junior, Nathan Scott is the team's star player and he's not exactly lacking in the 'hot-department'. Most girls attending Tree Hill High would give up their right arm to get with him.

_Poor baby_, she thinks sarcastically and chuckles. This must be _so_ confusing for him.

She lets her eyes trail his body and suddenly she wishes that they weren't in public. She'd love to have a go with him right now, because the stuff he can do to her, the way he pleases her…

"What about our deal?" he asks with a frown and she crosses her arms over her chest, a little annoyed. Of course _that_ would be his biggest concern. Then again, she had after all just been standing here thinking the exact same thing.

"I didn't say that we can't hook up," she mutters back. "Just don't do anything desperate like dumping your girlfriend. The deal is still on, but you know the rules. It has to be _her_."

If Peyton breaks up with Nathan, then she doesn't have to feel guilt.

There's a pause and he seems to want to say something, but she keeps her posture cold. Since summer-break she's gotten a little too weak around him and it's not something she's proud of. It's just that the weeks in July when Peyton was with her dad in Maine had been so… nice.

Still, he needs to know that he can't play her like he does other girls. That she doesn't _need_ him in the sense that he might think.

"Understood?" she asks and juts out her chin stubbornly.

As soon as he nods in affirmation, she leaves him standing there and walks back to where she parked her car. Because if she stays, she knows that she'll be doing stuff with him that she's not supposed to. Not since his girlfriend and supposedly her own best friend is calling her cell phone repeatedly as they speak.

She sends Peyton's call to voicemail and ignores Nathan's stares that burn holes into her back all the way up to the parking lot. Then she pushes 1 on speed dial and waits until the call connects.

"Ho," she greets Rachel's still sleepy grunt into the receiver. "I need some serious retail-therapy. Mall in twenty?"

"I need at least an hour, B…" Rachel whines, but she's too in need of her friend to be generous. She can hear Rachel move in the bed and somewhere in the background Owen grunts in his sleep. When she doesn't answer, Rachel tries a different approach.

"Can't you go fuck Nathan or something? You're much nicer when you're not sexually frustrated…"

"Twenty, Rach. I'm serious," she grumbles and cuts the call. Rachel should know by know that retail's always her second choice.

She should know that she wouldn't drag Rachel out of the bed shared with Owen unless it was needed. Stupid horny teenage couple. She really _does_ need her own boy.

She gets into the car and Nathan is finally able to tear his eyes of her disappearing form. If he was angry before she showed up, then that doesn't even cover what he is now.

_I'm going for Lucas anyway…_

What the hell was that supposed to mean? She's gonna fuck them both? Use Lucas to make him jealous? Just play around with Lucas 'cause she's bored? Their deal is still on and if she wanted sex, then why didn't she just easy up on the whole rule-thing or even let him dump Peyton like he'd said?

Even now when he's pissed off, he'd be more than glad to satisfy her in whatever way she wanted him to.

Groaning in frustration, he gets into his own car. Girls never made sense and although Brooke usually was a lot less whiny and complicated than most girls, she's still the hardest one to figure out.

_Damn it_.

He drives back to his house, pushing the gas-pedal so hard into the floor that the engine shrieks. And he wishes that he'd see Lucas.

That Lucas would walk out into the street right in front of him so that he could run the fuckwit over.

---x---

_**October 12**__**th**__**, 2006**_

Monday morning's English class is just as boring as ever and Brooke uses the hour to dwell over her tangled life. Bites the back of her pen and glances at Nathan through the corner of her eye.

She feels guilty somewhat and she's not really sure why. It's not like they're dating or any ridiculously serious like that. They're strictly FWB's whenever Peyton is out of the picture. So why should she care how Nathan feels about her going after Lucas?

She knows she should really be feeling guilty about seeing Nathan behind Peyton's back but she doesn't. Especially since Peyton has been sneaking around on Nathan since school started back up. Brooke's not sure what happened in those four-weeks she was in France, but whatever it was it has Peyton acting strange.

First there's the fact that Peyton dodges the subject whenever Brooke asks what she did that summer. Second is the sudden secret phone calls and text messages and third, she has that sick look about her that one only gets when they're into something way deeper than they should or want to be.

So again, Brooke doesn't feel so bad about messing around with Nathan when its blatantly obvious that Nate and Peyton have been over for quite some time. The guilt she feels for Peyton is only a small annoying tick in the back of her mind. It's easy to push back and ignore.

If only it were the same thing for Nathan. But no matter, she's sure once she hooks up with Lucas all that will be long gone.

"Identity-this was a common theme in the work of E.E. Cumings. While it's true he was most known as a…" Her teacher's voice drones on into a small hum in the background of her current state of mind as she folds the last flap of her cootie-catcher in her hands.

"Lucas," she whispers to the boy on her right and grins when he looks over at her curiously, "what's your favorite color?"

"Black," is his immediate response.

She nods and starts to open and close the origami'd piece of paper between her fingers, "B-l-a-c-k," she pauses to look up at the teacher in front of the class.

"When Cummings died in 1962, he was enormously popular, especially with young readers." _Bor-ing!_ She rolls her eyes and goes back to the task at hand.

"What's your favorite number?" She jerks her head slightly so that the hair in her eyes will slide out of view. Lucas holds up three fingers and she then counts three on the catcher. "Okay," she looks over at him with a naughty glint in her eyes, "what's your favorite sexual position?"

Lucas gives her a confused and uncomfortable look. He's adorable, really, he is. She could eat him up right there on the spot. A small giggle bubbles up her throat and she hides it behind a hand. Ahead three seats to the right Nathan turns to scowl in their direction. _Shut up_, he mouths and rolls his eyes turning back around to listen to their teacher.

Brooke shrugs. "I'll use mine," she tells Lucas and counts the letters on the catcher before she stops and opens it up with a gasp. "So, you like me." She winks and Lucas laughs softly back at her.

Then the toy is taken from her hands as their teacher passes by, "Mostly because he dealt with sex… and war." He frowns down at Brooke with a slight shake of his head. She likes Mr. Liam, but the guys a total prude. "Okay, folks, listen up-I want everyone to bring in something by Cummings-poem, essay, whatever-to the next class. Okay, thank you for your work."

He slaps down a few students essay papers and when Brooke sees her own, she swoops it up and dumps it in her bag. _B-_ with a side not that says: _Imagine what you could achieve if you actually _tried_ Brooke?_

She frowns and jumps up to run past Nathan out into hall. Surprisingly she doesn't have to look far because Lucas is standing right outside the door waiting for her.

"What'd you get on your essay?" he asks with a small smile. And beyond happy to see him there she links her arm through his and tells him what it was.

"So broody boy, you gonna walk me to class?" Her brow rises as she flirts with the tall blonde. He grins down at her and nods his head with a small _sure _on his lips.

They walk past Nathan as if he isn't even there.

---x---

Lucas isn't sure what he's doing, walking Brooke to their Spanish-class. But there's something with the girl's smile. Something alluring that just makes him nod and say "Uh-huh," like a dumbass when she asks him for stuff.

Sure, part of it might be the fact that he still hasn't gotten over finding her half-naked in his car the other night. And it could be because his mother reminds him at least once a week that he should be a gentleman.

All he knows is that when they reach the right corridor and she flashes him a flirty smile and says "Thanks Luke," then he can't help it but to follow her with his eyes when she rushes off to join the other girls.

He leans against a locker at his side, and he has never really thought about it before but when girls walk, they kind of sway their hips in what looks like a sensual dance. Or come to think of it, maybe this didn't apply to all girls because Haley certainly didn't walk like that.

Maybe this was only linked to Brooke Davis?

She's speeding up her step to catch up with Rachel and he blushes and averts his eyes when he realizes that he's blatantly staring at her behind, wrapped in jeans so tight that they seem almost painted directly on her skin. And looking away, his gaze instead falls on Peyton further down the hall.

For a second he wonders why he never thought about if she, his dream-girl, sways her hips when she walks. But he shakes the thought away with the answer that Peyton Sawyer is too classy to strut around like that, fishing for attention.

He guesses that Brooke and Rachel are used to turning heads and Peyton just doesn't seem to crave that sort of admiration from boys.

He likes that about Peyton and he's just about to smile towards the blonde when he realizes that he's back to looking at Brooke's back pockets.

Chuckling to himself, he shakes his head and turns to go look for Haley.

He's not more than human and it's not his fault that Tree Hill High's cheer captain thrives on attention.

And honestly; it's _not_ his fault that she has a gorgeous ass.

"Oh eww," a voice startles him from behind, "now that is something I never wanted to see you do. Like—_ever_," Haley grimaces and Lucas spins around embarrassed.

"What?" he squints down at her in the hall.

"You were totally starting and Brooke Davis' ass!"

"Tell the world!" Lucas yelps and pulls her out of the hall towards his locker. "And I was not—"

"Liar, liar, your eyes were full of desire," she scoffs and sets her hands on her hips.

Lucas blinks in confusion, "Don't you mean, pants on fire?" he scratches his ear.

"Ha!" Haley pokes him in the chest, "so you admit it! You're a liar. You _were _staring at her!"

Lucas frowns, "Can we just get to class?"

Haley twists her lips and sighs, "I guess. But I'm going that way," she points towards the tutoring center.

"Great game, Lucas." Bevin Mirskey saunters past.

They both watch her go and Haley can already feel everything changing. It scares her a little actually, she likes the way things are. Lucas smiles to himself, something that unsettles her a bit but she ignores it.

"All right," she pats his shoulder, "I'm going to the tutoring center so I can feel superior."

Lucas laughs as Haley begins to walk away, but then she stops suddenly and turns around. "Oh, listen," she starts and he pauses to look back at her, "they're playing _Attack of the 50-foot Woman _at the Crescent tomorrow. Do you want to go?" she asks him.

His grin makes her feel as if maybe she's overreacting in thinking she could ever possibly lose him. "Yeah," he nods, "count me in."

"All right," she grins happily and walks off.

"I'll call you later," he calls out to her.

"Bye!" she shouts over her shoulder as they part ways.

Watching them secretly from down the hall, a thought occurs to Nathan Scott. Beside him Tim blabs on about God can only guess because he tends to tune the shorter guys out whenever he opens his mouth.

"Hey," he interrupts Tim mid-sentence, "who's that girl Lucas always hanging out with?" he points to her retreating back just as she disappears into the tutoring center.

"Who knows?" Tim shrugs carelessly, "Why? You feel like slumming?"

Nathan turns to Tim who wears a humorous grin and they both share a laugh. "Nah man, just curious," Nathan pats his shoulder. "Lets get to class, if I'm late one more time it's my ass."

"Dude, you know you can skip class altogether and get nothing but a slap on the wrist." Tim slings his backpack over his shoulder and snorts.

"Yeah," Nathan can't help but agree, "but Mr. Kennedy tends to pass along my tardys to Whitey. And I don't feel like having him stare me down for two minutes at practice before telling me to run ten laps for no reason."

Tim chuckles, "True. Hey man, we're gonna kick it at Theresa's house after school. You coming? Oh, wait," he smirks, "are you and Peyton together again? Cuz I know you gotta ask permission if you are…" he teases.

"Fuck Peyton," Nathan scowls.

---x---

**October 15****nd****, 2006**

If Nathan were to sit down and write up all the things going in his life that pissed him off at the moment he's sure that he would find that they were all linked to one person.

_Lucas Scott_.

All he hears lately is Lucas this, and Lucas that. He swears if he hears that bastards name _one_ more time…

"You're really just going to sit there while Lucas takes over everything? We've worked too hard to have anyone coming in now, disrupting the offense, and taking away shots." His father's condescending tone feels like a slap in the face.

"You think I don't already know that," Nathan scowls, "I'm working on it dad, okay? Chill." His grimace tightens.

"Well whatever it is that you're _working_ _on _doesn't seem to be enough now, does it?" Dan scoffs. "You have to act now Nathan, before the scouts start coming out and by then Lucas will have taken up the spotlight. Do you want that?"

Nathan shakes his head and his dad continues.

"Whitey can put this kid on the team, he can put him in the game—but he can't put him in _your_ game. So shut him out. And shut down the opposition. You've got Broner tonight. They're good so be ready."

"Alright," he nods at his dad and watches him leave the kitchen.

He really hates Lucas. Ever since he's joined the team Nathan's life has been turned upside down. His dad's constant criticism has moved on to just plain insults. Whitey worships the ground he walks on. Peyton is gaga for the losers attention even though its clear as day that she's only doing it because she's bored and because Brooke wants him.

_Brooke_. If anyone could be the one to get him through this it would be her. But she's already fallen under that losers spell too. She's done everything but mount him in front of the entire school.

"_Just stick with the blonde, Nate. I'm going for Lucas anyway."_

He can't believe the girls that used to drool for him now follow Lucas around like little mewing kittens. All except for Rachel who's never really been into high school boys anyhow. If there was something Nathan could do to get Lucas to quit the team, then he's so positive that his life would return to normal.

He's tried everything from hazing him to tying him up and leaving him in the middle of a mud field. Nothing's seemed to work. But he one more trick up his sleeve. Even if it didn't work it would be worth it just for the hell of it.

Because corrupting Haley James was going to be so freaking entertaining.

---x---

Thank you's:

**Amanda (Ali-Chan1)**: Manda Panda, we were relived to hear that you weren't in fact late for work after that great review. No curse-words in the title but hopefully this chapter will still be to your liking. Thanks sweetie.

**Stefy (Stephyboh)**: Baby, thank you for that long and detailed review. Its great to hear your thoughts even though I (Lynn) had already heard some of them. Thanks for all the support and promotion of this story, hun.

**Fire Tears X**: Hey, man. Sorry we couldn't get the update up on the 25th for you, but family events and Christmas one-shots got in the way. We hope you enjoyed this never the less because we certainly enjoy your review. :D Soo much! You do a damn good job, reading between the lines. Ps. You're strong for not engaging in Peyton-bashing, we do it several times a day. LOL

**Lizzy (Brucas123)**: Little Lizzy :D You're so sweet for calling us awesome. And we're so glad that you're enjoying the BR scenes because there will be plenty more of those. That friendship is just too great for words. Thank you so much for reviewing.

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**Ally**: We're glad to be teaming up too. ;) And we're really glad you're enjoying the story so far. Hopefully you'll keep doing that. Thank you.

**BrookenLucas12**: We love to hear who you guys ship throughout the story, and since you like BL then we hope that you liked this chapter. ;) Thank you for reading and reviewing.

**Chebelle**: There was even more BL in this chapter so hopefully you were pleased. You were also right about the earlier glance between BL being important. Good job ;). Thank you so much for giving us a long review like that. Oh, and we guess that you've gotten your answer about Haley.

**Brucas10**: You are so right. :D And of course there will be more BL, as well as BN. This is somewhat of a triangle after all. ;) Thank you.

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**Jem (flipflopgal)**: Its easier to update often since we have so much of it already written. And hopefully it'll stay that way. Thanks so much for reviewing.

**True Love Always**: You have the perfect setup with this story since you love both ships LOL. We hope you'll keep enjoying the story. Thank you.

**Brathan for the win**: We agree on both the BN and the BR, but everything happens for a reason. Be patient. ;) Thanks for the review.

**Ali (AliThompson)**: Ali, we really wanted to update sooner but we underestimated the busy days of Christmas LOL. Peyton has been getting a lot of attention but some things are important for the progress of the story ;)  
(Oh, and Ali? I (Lynn) have told Elena that she needs to update that story, but I guess I'm trapping her with writing for this) Thanks for the review.

**Populette**: thank you for supporting our joint story. We are planning on updating our own stories (GBTRD was updated the other day) but we're investing a lot of time into this right now. Hopefully we won't disappoint.

**QTpie41184**: We've incorporated some of the scenes from the show that we find important but as the story progresses there will be less and less of that. Your guesses are good ;) Hopefully you'll stick around to find out what happens later since you really can't lose. LOL Thanks for the great review.

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**Cheerandbrood323**: We love him too. And there are so many awesome guys in this story. LOL We hope you'll keep reading. Thanks for the review.

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**Luv2live**: Yup, that's correct. The chapter was titled after that song. Thank you for reviewing.

**Everyday's a holiday**: Thanks you for the review. We hope you'll keep reading.


	8. The Perfect Pawn

Authors note: Hi boys and girls. Hopefully you've all recovered from your New Year-hangovers enough to be able to read this. We (Lynn & Elena) are both in a rush, so there wont be long thank you's this time, but we love reading your reviews and comments and you know it. Happy 2009 to you all.

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 7: **_The Perfect Pawn_

**Junior Year**

_**October 16**__**th**__**, 2006**_

Dan Scott isn't quite sure how he missed it before. But when he catches sight of his son sneaking a look over at the cheerleaders for the hundredth time, he knows it not to pass goo-goo eyes at the Sawyer girl. Because Peyton isn't brunette, and she looks nothing like the peppy dimple faced girl currently shaking her pom poms.

"Hmm… upgrade," he mutters with a small smirk of approval.

"Excuse me?" Deb asks from beside him.

"Nothing dear, watch the game." Dan quickly silences his wife with a dismissive wave of a hand. Before she can respond he flies to his feet and shouts, "Hustle up son! Pick up your feet and stop moving like you got weights around your ankles!"

"Dan, please," Deb frowns in disappointment. She hates to hear her husband openly chastise their son in a crowd full of his peers.

"Let's go Ravens!" A perky voice draws Deb's attention towards the scantily clad girls on the sidelines.

"Peyton looks upset," she tells her spouse, "Oh, I hope she and Nathan haven't gotten into another fight."

Dan scoffs, "When don't those two fight? If our son had any sense he'd end it with the girl now. He doesn't need anymore distractions in his life." He growls.

"What are you saying, Dan?" Deb asks in disbelief that he'd speak so negatively about their sons relationship.

Even if the girl never gives a genuine smile, or that every word out of her mouth drips with sarcasm and tastes of negative criticism. She's almost a permanent in the household and besides, Peyton is not only Nathan's girlfriend, but she's also Brooke's best friend. The Davis girl's background shines like a well polished diamond and even though her whole life has been on display since the day she was born, Deb knows she is full of secrets.

But Deb digresses, and with a shake of her head she looks to the man beside her and waits for his response.

"I'm saying our son is playing with fire right now by banging the best friend." Dan mutters in distaste of his sons decision to follow in his own footsteps. Did he not see the train wreck he was headed towards? "I can understand the temptation," he points to the group of cheerleaders, "but he has far too much to lose by playing around like this. He needs to remain focused on the task at hand."

"Which is?" Deb rolls her eyes because she knows what's going to come out next.

"Basketball, of course." Dan grunts.

"Dan," she sighs, "Nathan is not doing anything with Brooke. They've been friends for far too long to let—"

Deb stops mid-sentence as she witnesses a look being passed from one teen to another. From Brooke to Nathan. From the Davis' only daughter to her only son.

Dan leans back and pats her leg, "You forget," he chuckles, "our boy is a Scott," he almost sounds somewhat proud. The thought that he would approve of their sons misdoing makes her stomach churn.

But there is no mistaking the slight tilt of Brooke's head. Or the mischievous twinkle in Nathan's eyes as he nods back and grins as if he's won the game when there is still three quarters left. Deb blinks in shock as Peyton frowns on completely oblivious to the visible signals that are being passed on right in front of her.

How could she be so blind? Was she deliberately ignoring what was going on right under her nose? Was she truly that wrapped up in her own little world? Then there was Brooke and Nathan. How could they be so careless? Did they not care about how this would make Peyton feel?

And then there was the clincher. The point that this all boiled down to and it makes her shiver in shame. _How could Deb raise a son capable of something like this? _But the answer is simple and it's sitting directly to her right.

"You're right," Deb tells her husband and clears her throat, "he is your son."

Below them, she sees Lucas looking at Brooke too, before the blond boy's head turns and he looks at Peyton. Peyton smiles and Lucas returns it shyly before running up court after Nathan.

"He's _definitely_ your son…" she repeats and sighs. Then she points discretely at Lucas who's just scored. "…but so is that one."

---x---

_**October 17**__**th**__**, 2006**_

He doesn't get it. How was it that Lucas has gone this long under the radar and then all of the sudden he's shoved into Nathan's face. But what bothers him most is how much he effects his relationships.

Lucas wants Peyton, Brooke wants Lucas, and Peyton wants Nathan.

Nathan doesn't know who he wants but he knows _what _he wants. He wants Lucas long gone. He's pissed that their on the same team and he wishes that Lucas would just fade away. Peyton's starting to act up again and Nathan thinks its because she's pissed that Lucas is starting to notice Brooke.

Peyton thrives on attention. If it's not all on her she gets moody and when she's moody she's bitchy and when that happens… they break up. But Brooke has been avoiding him and he knows it has to do with her new fascination with his half-brother. Watching the guy run back and forth across the blacktop of the Rivercourt he's reminded of the game he'd lost to him just a few weeks before.

"Brick!" He shouts and the shot Lucas throws hits the brim of the basket and bounces off to the side. Nathan chuckles and shakes his head at how utterly pathetic Lucas is.

"What are you doing here?" Lucas rolls his eyes, he's so sick of Nathan's attitude. It's always been shitty but ever since joining the team it's as if he's turned it on full blast.

"I'm just curious to know how the other half lives," he teases and when Lucas doesn't crack a smile he chuckles softly. "What are you trying to prove, man? I just want to know. Why are you here?"

"I thought we settled this the day I beat you on this court?" Lucas scowls.

"Don't you get it?" Nathan grunts and shakes his head, "It will _never_ be settled between you and me."

"It doesn't have to be like this you know," Lucas tries to suggest an alternative but the raven haired boy isn't having it.

"Yeah," he snaps, "it does. You can't just waltz up into my life and try to take over. If you were capable of it you'd have done it a long ass time ago. So quit now before you're humiliated. Peyton doesn't want you, the team doesn't want you and guess what?" He scoffs, "neither does anyone else."

Lucas stares back at him finally understanding something very important, "You're threatened by me."

"What?" Nathan laughs, "you wish I was."

"No," he shakes his head at his brother, "you _are_. I've been hidden for a long time and you could go about your elite life without interruption. Now you have competition and you're not used to that."

Nathan catches the rebound and shoots the basketball into the old beaten up hoop with an almost uncanny ease. Lucas catches it and passes it back to Nate.

"You're afraid that I'll step in and take your place in the spotlight," he adds.

The laugh that comes out of his half-brother's mouth is cold.

"You'll never take my spot, loser," he says and shoots again. "You're not good enough."

The second shot is even better than his first. The ball goes in without even touching the rim and suddenly Lucas gets an uneasy feeling in his stomach. If he's completely honest with himself he knows that between the two of them, Nathan _is_ the better player. His technicality is better and so is his strategy and percentage. So why had Nathan lost?

Peyton's Comet parks in the gravel beside the court and Nathan grumbles and sends his third shot perfectly through the hoop. And before Lucas has a chance to says something back to Nathan, Nate throws the ball to the side and hisses; "Just stay away from my court, stay the hell out of my face…"

"And stay away from Peyton?" he asks tauntingly when Peyton gets out of her car and smiles towards him instead of towards Nathan.

Nathan chuckles again and walks towards his own car.

"You'll never get her, dude. She's way out of your league."

And if Lucas hadn't been so busy with trying to figure out why, if Nathan is right, Peyton isn't following her boyfriend when he leaves, then he might have heard Nathan mumble;

"You just stay the fuck away from _Brooke_ and we'll be good..."

---x---

_**October 19**__**th**__**, 2006**_

Her name is Haley James and she is the perfect pawn for him to use on his royal chessboard called life. He is the King, Brooke is his Queen and Lucas is his ivory opponent who has her cornered. Why not use the lesser known pawn with limited maneuvers? She is easily manipulated because she is naïve.

Sometimes Nathan understands what Brooke must feel when she's with Lucas. He feels it when he's with Haley, a sense of hope with the small promise of a reformed future.

Then Nathan snaps back into reality and realizes that the only one who can change him or make him better is himself. Sure it would be easy to allow Haley to aid him in the quest to become a better person. She actually has the potential to be a full blown hottie amongst the popular crowd. But she'd never claim it and perhaps it is because of this that he hesitates to use her.

However, it must be done. Nathan is up against a wall and he cannot back down, not when he is so close to losing everything. Lucas' sudden decision to join the team has not only effected his relationship with both Brooke and Peyton—but he's lost his starting spot in the lineup. His father is on his ass even more lately because of this and he even goes as far as to make Nathan watch the games on TV. He does this so that he can point out every flaw and imperfection Nathan has made. Then he'll point to Lucas and scowl even though there is no denying that Lucas is getting better with every new game under his belt.

"Hey." He says entering the tutoring center. It smells musty and he hides a disgusted face behind a hand.

"Can I help you?" Her face is confused but also defensive.

There's a defiant fire behind those two brown eyes and it amuses him to the fullest. She has no idea that she is a mouse and he is the slithering snake approaching her and ready to feast. Just like the mouse—she is oblivious.

"I hope so. You're my tutor." He slides the strap on his backpack up further onto his shoulder.

"Right." She laughs. "I don't think so." A quick shake of her head causes her bangs to fall into her face.

Okay, so maybe she isn't _that _oblivious.

"You're Haley James, right?"

He plays dumb and hands her his transcript from the front office. He's banged the office assistant once before and just like all the other faceless girls she still drops everything when he calls in a favor. Nathan does not need a tutor. Shockingly Nathan is actually a lot smarter than he appears. But it's easier when everyone thinks you're a dumb jock. That way when you come out of left field with a plan that only a genius could be thought to come up with… he's in the clear when it comes time to pass out punishments.

Haley looks over his blue sheet of paper that tells her that she is in fact his tutor. But she shakes her head and hands it back to him. "I'm sorry. I'm best friends with Lucas." She says hoping that it explains everything.

It doesn't.

"Well, then I'm sorry, too." He smirks.

"Forget it. I'll find you someone else." She snaps and jerks her coat from its hanger. As she readies to exit the room he's at a loss for a few moments. This wasn't how this was supposed to play out.

"Whoa, whoa, look, look. There is nobody else. All right? I'd be fine with it if there was." He lies to her face. There are three other tutors available but he's made sure to shut them all up before hand. So that if Haley goes to ask them they can automatically refuse and say they are full up.

"If there were." She sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose.

"See?" He smiles at how cute she is. "You're helping me already." Nathan laughs.

"Look, I can't help you and on top of that, I _won't_ help you. Okay?" They stare into each others eyes for a few seconds.

He can see from her stiff posture and tight mouthed grimace that she is not going to budge on this decision she's made. At least not right now. He hates how much her defiance makes him think of Brooke. The way her hands are planted firmly on her hips and her eyes stare back at him intensely.

Now he's a bit pissed because he's not supposed to care this damn much about a girl who clearly does not know what she wants. He _hates _how complicated females can be. It doesn't help that Haley is just adding onto that large growing number of complications in his life. But then she shocks him, because she doesn't say another word.

Instead, Haley just walks right out of the room.

---x---

Owen makes her heart race.

It bangs in her chest like a jack rabbit. When he touches her skin it sets flame to her body like a match igniting against a rough surface. His fingers trail up the backs of her legs slow and soft as feathers. It's not supposed to _be_ this way. A boy is not supposed to have her feel this weird, however hot he is.

His lips press kisses over her shoulders and across the back of her neck. Rachel shivers and hold back a small gasp of pleasure.

She hates him.

His tongue slides out to tease her pulse points and her eyes close. She takes a deep breath and the pen in her hand falls past her fingers and onto her History book.

She especially hates how well he knows her. Her mind. Her body, her minions and her loved ones.

"I have a test in U.S. Government tomorrow" she groans. "Knock it off, B's gonna come bounding through the door any second now."

He chuckles against her skin and slides his hands up her sides after straddling her from behind. "Why are your shoulders so tense?" He asks her and starts to knead his knuckles into her back. "Put your head down and lay flat on your stomach. I'm gonna crack your back," he instructs her.

Rachel starts to giggle.

"I'm serious. Our team masseuse taught me how to do this."

"Oh, really?" She scoffs and tries to turn around but Owen is 225 pounds of pure muscle. She's not going anywhere.

"Chill out Raye," Owen snorts. "He's a dude."

"Oh, _really?_" she teases and squeals when his fingers dig into her sides.

Ultimately she lays on her stomach as asked. She takes a deep breath when he says to and when she does he pushes the heels of his palms in and up the sides of her spine.

She hears her back bones crack and pop and even though the sound is eerie, it feels marvelous. So good in fact, that she tells him to do it again.

Now that she's relaxed she sighs happily and curls up into his chest like a content kitten when he lies back onto her bed. His fingers drum down her shoulder and she purrs happily.

"You coming to my game on Friday?" he replies as he exhales into her hair.

She plays with the silver dog chains around his neck and shrugs. "You coming to mine?" She asks casually pulling on the necklace.

"Will you be in that short cheer skirt?"

"Will you be in those sexy football tights?"

He growls in the back of his throat like a hungry lion and she walks her fingertips up his chest.

"Football is a _real _mans sport." Owen mutters.

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Your point being?"

"That you should cheer for _me _and not them," he scoffs jealously.

"Who said I cheered for you?" She looks up at him curious and screams out when he playfully starts to wrestle with her.

But the moment is soon interrupted when the sound of the downstairs front door slams shut. It's soon followed by the angry clank of heels before the bedroom door swings open.

Brooke sees them but says nothing as she hastily starts to strip out of her school clothes. She snatches a robe off the closet door and marches past them in her bra and underwear on her way into the shower. When the bathroom door slams shut behind her both Rachel and Owen pause to look at each other.

"_Nathan," _they reply and Rachel lightly pats Owens shoulder.

The moment is over and Owen gathers his things. They both know that the next two hours will be spent listening to Brooke rant and rave on and on about how much she hates Nathan. Owen's heard these speeches before and doesn't feel like an encore. So he quickly dresses and steals a kiss form Rachel on his way out.

Rachel sighs and leans back in her bed and waits for Brooke to emerge from the shower. Laying back on her elbows she bites her lip and thinks about how much she loves Owen for not questioning her and immediately leaving the room. He knows her.

And for that, she hates him most.

---x---

_**October 20**__**th**__**, 2006**_

The next time Nathan approaches Haley James, he changes his tactics. He's deliberately failed his English exam and if this does not work? Then he swears he is going to just kill Lucas with his bare hands. Getting to him through Haley was supposed to be easy but he's already lowered his grade point average because of it. How fucked up is that?

Haley is sluggishly putting away her books after a long session with one of her clients. _Clients_, even now it still makes her giggle. Anyways, she's just spent over 2 hours trying to show Kyle Valenti how to solve quadratic equations. But Kyle would not stop staring at her chest. Therefore, he failed his practice test, wasted her time and now she's pissed. She grabs her side-bag and heads to the door, but Nathan walks in.

He gives her a huge sigh, "Hey."

He broods in a way that she would expect to see from Lucas—not Nathan. She sees this and she rolls her eyes because she can see right through him.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm gonna be fine." He tells her.

"Good." She replies completely nonchalant, she could really care less. Whatever gets him out of her tutoring center.

Nathan can see the indifference in her face and knows that in about two seconds it's going to wipe clean. He holds up his test paper and stares directly into her eyes. "I mean, F is for fine, right?" He shrugs in the same nonchalant manner she had expressed just moments before.

Just as predicted, her blank look melts into confusion. She's fighting an inner battle of whether or not to feel sorry for him. Girls like her do not like to associate themselves with quote, unquote "bad boys." But put one in front of them who needs their help? They don't stand a chance.

They make _movies _out of shit like this.

He wants to smirk at her, because she really never stood a chance against him. His lips twitch he wants to laugh so bad. He has her. He knows it. But before she can say anything else, he needs to leave her in the same way she had walked out on him before. The whole reason for his being there is to knock her down off her pedestal.

So Nathan slaps his test down onto the counter and walks out the door. The moment his back is turned, the grin creeps up into place. _So easy_. He doesn't even have to see Haley to know that she's standing there with a disappointed look on her face.

The King has set his pawn. She has no other choice but to move forward down the path that's been paved for her. He scoffs silently to himself as he makes his way down the hall to go piss Peyton off.

He's one move closer to a checkmate.

---x---

"Fuck you, Nathan! I'm so tired of waiting for you!"

Peyton practically growls as she stomps away from Nathan's car and across the school parking lot, Rachel nudges Brooke in the side and smiles. Nathan mutters something unheard and when Peyton yells back "Don't bother! We're through!" over her shoulder, she does it so loudly that she sends freshmen scattered in fear.

Brooke can't help but giggle. Peyton _can_ be scary when she's pissed off.

Nathan hasn't seen them yet and Brooke watches him roll his eyes and tiredly wipe his hand over his face. For the millionth time she wonders what it is that makes Nathan and Peyton go back to each other every time, but she's interrupted by a second nudge from her redheaded friend.

"So you won't come with me and O to Blue Post tonight, right?"

Confused she tears her eyes from the raven-haired boy. "What do you mean?"

"Aren't you gonna go get laid?"

The twinkle in Rachel's eye is mischievous when she nods in Nathan's direction. "It's been a while, right? Maybe it could make you less of a bitch?"

"Rachel!" she scowls and looks around to make sure no one's heard her blabber-mouthed friend. "That's where I draw the line," she states in a lower voice and crosses her arms over her chest. However much she'd _like_ to go to Nathan, she's not gonna go right after him as if she's been waiting for this break up for days. Because she _hasn't_. Seriously.

She tries to look firm but Rachel sees right through her like always. And most of the time it's comforting, but times like now, it mostly pisses her off. She hates that Rachel sometimes knows her better than she knows herself.

"You draw _a lot_ of lines…" Rachel teases and winks.

"Yeah?" she snaps back. "Well, you try to make me cross them all, don't you?"

Rachel taps her chin and pretends to think. "Hmm… let me think," she drawls. "Yup. Actually that would make me proud."

It's no surprise to her. Rachel Gatina is totally incorrigible.

---x---

"Owen, turn down the fucking music!" Rachel yelps and smacks his bicep as the car flies over another bump in the road. "Brooke, quit encouraging him!"

But her brunette friend squeals happily and flings her arms around Owens shoulders from the backseat. Rachel sighs and rolls her eyes, well aware of that the reason that she'll soon be carsick stems from two things.

One; Brooke loves to go fast, preferably _way_ over the speed limit. And two; Owen Morello is a freaking defenseless wimp when it comes down to saying no to her best friend – courtesy of that stupid B. Davis pout.

Like magic, it works every time.

Another bump and she curses angrily when her head almost hits the ceiling of the car. But then she looks back and she has to really force herself not to let a smile show. Because Brooke looks like a kid on Christmas morning, and for some godforsaken reason, the quarterback in the front seat – the guy she's been screwing frequently for over a year now – seems to take an immense pleasure in making her brunette friend giggle.

And _of course_ she knows why. She's a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them. The biggest reason to why Owen doesn't listen to her angry demands of slowing down is because he knows the dynamics in her relationship with Brooke better than anyone does.

After a year Owen knows that the best way to make Rachel Gatina happy is by making Brooke Davis laugh. A happy brunette usually brings out a happy redhead and Rachel knows that he's figured this out. If nothing else, then the boyish glance he sends her every time Brooke happily squeals from the back does it.

"Is this fast enough for you, B?" Owen chuckles over the music and when Brooke excitedly shouts "No!" then he laughs and pushes the gas pedal further into the floor. It's ridiculous and Rachel is just about to complain again when he suddenly curses loudly and steps on the breaks instead.

The tires screech against the asphalt, the breaks protests loudly and while stepping harder on the pedal, Owen prays to God that the girls in the car with him are wearing seatbelts. Vivid images of Rachel flying out through the windshield flashes before his eyes and his heart gets caught somewhere in his throat. But its his only choice other than hitting the person that has suddenly appeared in the middle of the street.

Terrified, he flings out his right arm to protect Rachel from flying forward and feels her chest slam against his elbow before she lets out a loud and colorful stream of curses. Then he whips around and checks on Brooke. She's wide-eyed and silent but still strapped in the backseat and he breathes out before shouting "What the _fuck_ is wrong with this _idiot_?"

Rachel hits him again and then Brooke pokes her head in between the front seats and lets out a surprised; "Lucas?" which in turn makes his redheaded girl groan in fury.

Lucas however, stands frozen in the middle of the street, staring at the huge SUV that has slammed the breaks and come to a stop mere inches from his body. He pants, trying to regain his breathing that was already ragged from running and that now seems to have malfunctioned out of pure shock.

Slowly he reaches up and pulls the ipod-earplugs out of his ears before a guy burst out of the car and starts yelling.

"Are you fucking insane, huh? Do you have a freaking death-wish?!"

Lucas squints and feels his pulse coming back to normal. The driver has some nerve yelling at him when he was obviously the one driving way too fast on a small road like this one.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going?" he mumbles back but instantly regrets it when he realizes that the guy is huge. He spots Rachel Gatina in the passenger-seat and he groans annoyed, and then the backdoor opens and Brooke steps out.

He should have known. The brat-pack of Tree Hill always lived by their own rules.

People like her, Rachel and Nathan acted like they could do anything they wanted all the time.

Brooke says something to the big guy that he doesn't quite hear and watching her stand there in her revealing top and barely there skirt, he thinks back to when she was hiding in his car ten days ago.

Brooke Davis still makes him nervous. She's perfect in every sense of the word and he still remembers how it had made him feel when she stripped in his backseat. Lately she's given him a lot of attention in school and he has to admit that the girl has a sweeter side that he hadn't quite expected, but in the same breath, he can't help but think that she probably does it to every new guy on the Ravens team. The reputation of Brooke Davis precedes her and just because he hasn't been part of the it-crowd doesn't mean that he doesn't hear the high school gossip.

During the last three weeks, ever since he joined the team, he's heard more than one guy in the locker-room refer to Brooke with words as _wild_, _slutty_ and _easy_.

The driver steps back into the car but Brooke stays standing in the street and Lucas expects her to yell at him now. To tell him what an idiot he is for getting in the way of their reckless driving. But instead she takes a hesitant step forward.

"Are you…uhm, are you okay?"

She sounds worried and he's so surprised that he gets tongue tied.

"Uh, yeah…" he mumbles and scratches the back of his neck absentmindedly. "I'm… sorry? I didn't see you guys…"

He has no idea why he's apologizing. They were the ones that drove way too fast. But something in the brunette's thankful smile just makes him do it.

"No, _I'm_ sorry" she blurts and puts a hand on her heart as if to show she's sincere. "We were just playing around. Owen didn't see you running out."

He nods and mumbles an embarrassed "No worries…" He suddenly feels bad for letting the guys on the team color his judgment of a girl he doesn't even know. His mom hasn't raised him like that.

After all, Brooke Davis is Peyton Sawyers best friend. Of course the girl is nice.

Brooke seems satisfied now that she's seen to it that he isn't hurt and she starts to get back into the car. But just as he's about to put the earplugs back into his ears, she calls out to him.

"Hey, Luke? You wanna come with us to a party?"

He frowns at her random request and points down at his sweaty attire with a lopsided grimace. "I don't think that would really work out" he replies loud enough for her to hear, and somewhere in the back of his head, he's a little confused as to why he didn't just say 'no'. It's not like he'd ever want to go to a party with Brooke's type of crowd anyhow. That one time last semester was more than enough.

She shrugs and flashes him a flirty smile anyway.

"Okay broody-boy, suit yourself" she says. "See you tomorrow in Lit-class." And she hardly has the time to slam the car door shut before the big SUV takes off with a roar.

Lucas squints, feeling confused, and watches the car disappear towards the highway exit.

And when he finally turns and starts running back towards his house, he can't help but think that Brooke Davis is a mystery.

He doesn't know that many girls. Other than Haley, his entire social circle is made out of guys. But even so, he's pretty sure of one thing.

Peyton's brunette friend is about as mysterious as girls come.

---x---

_**October 21**__**st**__**, 2006**_

Haley cannot believe she's doing this. But against her better judgment she's standing on Nathan Scott's doorstep. She has to do this for Lucas. Nathan has been putting him through hell and for what? She doesn't know, but anything she can do to lessen the blows she is willing to do.

So she walks up to the start of the pathway, sighs, and walks up to the door to knock. She can do this. Haley has never been a complete weenie. Well, that's a lie. She cringes at the gory scenes in the movies she and Lucas watch on movie nights. She squeals when something jumps out onto the screen and she always… _always _hides into his shoulder during certain scenes when she's sure she's not going to like what she sees.

She just wishes Lucas was with her now to hide behind. But he's not and for once Haley is determined to be his "shoulder" to hide behind, so to speak. This must mean Nathan is the movie. She does this even though Lucas has no idea and would kill her if he did. Haley waits a few more seconds before she finally rings the doorbell. She frowns when she hears thumping on the other side followed by a whispered argument between two people before Nathan finally answers the door.

"Hey." He nods his head and even though they are facing each other, his eyes are staring over her shoulder.

She moves to turn around but Nathan clears his throat and her attention shifts back to him.

"Hey." She says in response and links her fingers together behind her back. "I looked over your English exam, and if you really want to learn, I can help you." She offers like the little saint that she is.

Nathan looks surprised, she doesn't know it's fake, "That's great. All right." He nods with a smile that makes her stomach do flips.

"I just… I have two conditions." She sighs and rubs a hand over her face. She really shouldn't be here.

For a moment Nathan has a flashback of Brooke's _conditions_ and the memory brings a small smile to his face. Haley mistakes this for something meant for her and smiles back before she frowns and continues.

"One, Lucas does not find out, okay? Ever." Her tone has an edge that makes him agree immediately.

"All right, fine." He accepts her first request.

"And number two, you leave him alone." She says next with more bluster than before.

Her eyes bore into his in a way he would expect to see from his mother. It unnerves him, makes him angry even. But he has to play it cool.

"Well, I don't really have much of a choice, do I?" He almost snaps.

Haley must have realized her mistake because she backs off instantly. "Okay, um—meet me tomorrow, 7AM at the Market Street dock." She licks her lips nervously.

Nathan blinks slightly confused. "Well, what about the tutoring center?" He asks her in a curious tone.

"No way. The dock. Take it or leave it." She waves a flippant hand out before crosses her arms over her chest.

"Okay. 7:00 then." He sighs and leans against the door frame. He likes the spunk Haley elicits when she's nervous. It means she's a babbler—just like Brooke.

This makes him frown.

"Okay." Her brows knit together at his sudden change in expression and she begins to walk backwards and away from him.

"Oh, and Haley?" He calls out to her one last time.

She whirls around and bites her bottom lip, "Yeah?"

"Don't worry," he smirks, "this will be our little secret." He winks, waits for the blush to reach her cheeks, then closes the door.

Haley gulps and scurries down the drive towards the street so that's he can get home. If she'd been paying more attention she would have noticed the little light blue beetle idling just off to the side of the house. If Haley hadn't been so set of getting in and out of there she would have seen Brooke's bare legged trump across the lawn after running out the back door. However, Haley did not see Brooke.

But Brooke saw Haley.

It takes three minutes for Haley to walk from the front door to the end of the street, where she took her first turn out of sight. Three more seconds and Brooke is out of her car and storming towards the house where Nathan is standing at the open door with a grin. As if he knew she'd be back all along.

"I see you found your skirt." He snickers.

"I see you're playing games," she snaps back.

"Why, Brooke." Nathan plays innocent and places a hand to his chest, "Whatever do you mean?"

"Oh please," she scowls, "Haley James? Haley _freaking_ James?" She laughs now because this is just so absurd. "If you wanted to make me jealous you could have tried to fuck with Bevin or Theresa—oh wait. You already did."

His grin is shit eating, "Seems to me Haley did the trick just fine."

"You son of a bitch." Brooke scoffs in disbelief. "Seriously? You're _seriously _going to toy with this girl because of me?"

"No." He shakes his head and now his eyes travel down her body hungrily. He licks his lips and slowly makes his way back up. "You know baby," he chuckles, "not everything is about you."

She shakes her head at him in disgust. "You're a shitty liar." She growls and her eyes narrow before she turns away from the door and towards her car.

Who is he kidding? Lately, _everything _has been about her.

---x---

* * *

Authors note: Again, thank you everyone for the reviews. Next chapter will be up in a week. Can you feel the plot thicken? LOL /E&L


	9. More Than A Moment Lost

Authors note: This is a long ass chapter. Well, we missed a week so look at it as if this was a double eppie. Next chapter will be up in a week as usual. Peace and Love ya'll.

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 8: **_More Than A Moment Lost_

**Junior Year**

---x---

_**November 1**__**st**__** 2006**_

It's way too damn early to pretend to give a crap. He's used to waking up early because it's practically a ritual in his house to wake up at 5 or 6 am for a morning run. Skipping more than a day is cause for serious disciplinary action.

But he has a good excuse today because he's meeting his tutor at their spot on the Market Street Dock. She's probably going to chew his head off for being late again but he sprang for Starbucks. He needed a severe pick-me-up that morning because putting on this 'nice guy' act for her is proving to be more exhausting than planned.

When he walks over to where Haley sits with her books out and open, he pauses to stop and sigh. Goodness that girl is a serious nerd, he chuckles to himself and shakes his head before moving forward.

"Breakfast of champions," he interrupts her study session, "want some?"

And all Haley does in return is scowl, "You're late." She mutters.

Nathan sighs and rolls his eyes, "Is that all you have to say to the guy who just brought you a nice hot cup of—"

"I ate already, thanks." She smirks.

He sighs again and takes off his backpack, "Fine, but I haven't so…" he sits down and takes out a cracker jack box from the pocket of his letter jacket. Taking out a small package he groans, "Ugh, please let this be a cheat sheet."

Haley rolls her eyes, "Typical," she snorts.

"Excuse me?" His brow rises in curiosity.

"I said, _typical_." She shuts her textbook and looks up at him. "Always wanting to take the easy way out. It's what you people do."

"_You people?_" He scoffs in disbelief, "Wow, I'd never peg you for a racist."

She makes a face at him and shakes her head, "Can we just get this over with? I don't have much time to play around this morning. I have a test in first period and I want some time to go over my study guide."

"What class?" His interest peaks.

"Econ," she frowns.

He winces, "Yeah that's a hard one. I barely made the cusp to be in the top 5 for the class with a 92." Nathan mutters and shakes his head.

"Wh-what?" Haley stutters in complete shock.

He has a sudden '_oh shit' _moment and then rips open the prize pack from his cracker jack box. Inside is a cheap looking bracelet that looks like a five year old made it, but he needs a distraction. She's still staring at him and when he holds it up and says, "It's for you." She doesn't even flinch.

"Stop it," she snaps. "I want to know how you got a ninety—"

"Come on," he grabs her wrist and outs the bracelet on her.

She sighs in annoyance and looks down at the trinket on her arm. It is actually kind of cute, but she can't let him know that. But judging from the huge grin on his face, she thinks he already knows.

"Don't say I never gave you anything." He looks over at her and winks.

She hates that everything in her mind seems to go blank just then. So she grabs her textbook and holds it up. "Do you see this book?" she wiggles it around, "Because this book is me. I am math."

Nathan frowns, "What's that supposed to mean?" he asks confused.

"It's supposed to mean that you can work your whole 'I'm Nathan Scott, Mr. Big shot, scoring my touchdowns' on somebody else, because I don't—"

"I don't even play football," he interrupts.

"Whatever," she grimaces. "Look, the point is at the end of the day, all your bluster and BS don't mean anything to math because math doesn't care, and neither do I."

"Well, does English care? Cause I really suck at that, too." He offers with an arrogant leer he masks behind a pretend shy smile.

"Please don't waste my time," she groans into her hands. "We've been over this before, Nathan. No games, just tutoring. I am already taking a huge chance on you because my instincts are screaming that you're full of sh—"

He laughs.

"Let's just get started, okay?" she hands him the book, "Page 81."

He flips to the desired page and looks up at her, "So next time _you're _bringing the Starbucks, right?" he teases.

She scowls over at him and he gives her an innocent shrug, "_Fine_," she snaps, "but only if you stop playing around and take this seriously!"

He nods, "Aye, aye captain." He salutes her and grabs a pencil to start on his homework. And as he studies he catches her playing with the bracelet on her wrist. When she does this it makes him smile.

Because Lucas is going to have a fit when he finds out where she got it.

---x---

**November 3****rd**** 2006**

She's not quite sure what the hell Peyton's problem is, all Brooke knows is that she's being ten times more lethal than usual. For instance, at lunch the day before, Peyton stated that a certain dimple faced brunette needed to pay less attention to boys and more attention to her calorie intake. Had Rachel not been there to snap back that a blonde bitch named Peyton needed to shut her mouth—Brooke's not sure what she would have done.

She both loves and hates Peyton. But there is no denying how much has changed between the two of them. They used to laugh and talk and do fun things together. Then her mom died, and she changed. But even so she had never been as malicious as she's been this past year.

Truth be told, Brooke must admit that Peyton's attitude skyrocketed around the same time she and Nathan began to have problems. Not to mention her vicious attacks on Brooke herself had started when Rachel transferred to Tree Hill.

But today, Peyton is being the bitch of all bitches. No matter how many time Brooke avoids her sharp tongue or defuses a random explosion… Peyton won't stop. And she's pretty sure it has to do with the fact that Nathan's started hanging around tutorgirl.

"Brooke," Rachel growls a deep rumble from the back of her throat, "if you don't do something about this bitch I'm going to take her down."

It's been like this all week. Cheer practice has become more hostile than an foreign war zone. It started off light, a snide comment here and there and by Friday—today—she's moved on to full blown bitch mode.

"Like I give a _shit _who you are hooking up with Theresa," Peyton's voice carries across the gym. "Because this is like the third time you've run your skanky ass around the football team anyways."

Theresa stands completely speechless by the bleachers as Peyton snatches her gym bag from off the floor. "I am so done wasting my time with you imbeciles!"

"Look Peyton," Ashley dares to speak up, "just because you and Nathan broke up again doesn't mean—"

"I'm sorry," Peyton scoffs and turns her fiery gaze her way, "but I don't think I was talking to you. I may have paraphrased my earlier statement and included you in it by calling you an imbecile? But that by no means meant that you could comment afterwards. So save your breath, because you're gonna need it after I knock your ass out."

Rachel looks to Brooke with a raised brow and she groans. Great, Peyton rears her ugly head once a—freaking—gain.

"Okay Peyt, that's enough," she comes up beside the curly blonde and places a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you and I—"

"Why don't you go and fuck yourself?"

Gasps fill the air around them and a few girls even cover their mouths. Brooke would laugh had she not been the recipient of Peyton's bluster. Rachel inches closer but with a look from Brooke she quickly backs off.

"Okay," she takes a deep breath, "you and me, let's go," she reaches for Peyton's wrist to pull her to the side and gets her hand slapped away.

"I am not a child," she snaps.

"Then quit acting like one!"

"Quit being a whore and maybe I will!"

"Excuse me?" Brooke shrieks, "What the hell is your problem, Peyton? You've been up my ass all week and now you're starting to take it out on the squad. So what's going on Peyton? You can tell me." She pleads.

Her blue eyes are tearful, and for a second Brooke thinks that she's made a breakthrough. Then suddenly her expression melts into rage and she shoves Brooke back a step. "Don't act like you care, Brooke."

"Peyton that is the second time you've said that to me," she frowns, "why—"

"Oh, this it only the second? Well then how many more times until it starts to sink in?" she scoffs and backs away from her a few steps. "Just leave me alone." She mutters and turns around to storm out the double doors.

"Peyton!" Brooke shouts, "Practice isn't over yet!"

The blonde pauses with her hand on the door handle and turns to throw Brooke one last dirty sneer, "Like I really give a shit, Brooke."

"Your attitude is getting really old, you know," she warns her best friend.

"Yeah? Well so is watching you parade around school with your lame-ass, cheap-ass, whore-ass captain routine. It's really sad how much of your life is defined by what you think is important. I've said it before and apparently I'll have to say it again to you morons," she stops to gaze around the gym at each girl.

Rachel rolls her eyes and wishes Brooke would just lock this bitch down, tell her off and shut her up. But no, she won't—she's way too brainwashed by Peyton's woe-was-me demeanor. Sometimes Rachel wishes Brooke would just cut her out of her life. Things would be so much more easier without her whining.

"Lets just go home," Brooke dismisses practice.

The girls break off for the locker room and Peyton scoffs in disgust. "You're all a bunch of sheep," she snaps, "you'd follow her off a bridge if you asked you to, wouldn't you?"

The cheer captains cheeks flush red, "Weren't you going somewhere, Peyt? Maybe to go tell the local elementary school that there's no Santa?"

"Hmmm," Peyton taps her chin, "no, I'd rather warn them all against the dangers of becoming a brainless slut. Hold on one second," she pulls her cell out from her bag and holds it up, "stay still while I take your picture. You know, for an example…"

Without another word, Brooke spins on her heels and heads out of the gym through the back doors. She doesn't bother to change because the anger boiling in her veins prevents her from being around any sympathetic gazes.

But whatever.

Peyton can be all the bitch she wants because it only helps to ease the weight on her conscience. Which is why she presses number two on her cell phone speed dial and connects instantly with Nathan Scott.

"Yeah?" he answers on the first ring, the chatter of his 'boys' muffled in the background.

"What are you doing?" she snaps as she storms across the parking lot towards her beetle.

"Not much, hanging at Tim's and—"

"Wrong," she says, "in fifteen minutes, you'll be doing _me._"

Click.

---x---

**November 7****th**** 2006**

Typically when Haley has something she wants to say to Lucas, she can always just go right up and tell him. No hesitation. It's practically a natural reaction in most cases. However, this is not most cases. This is something that could quiet possibly screw with their long standing friendship and that is something Haley James holds too dear to her heart. Jeopardizing the trust they share is a fate worse than death.

"Are you okay?" Lucas asks sliding in beside her at the back booth in his mother's café. "You're being awfully quiet today. Which is pretty miraculous in it's own way but—ow!" he frowns when her fist shoots out to hit him in the arm.

She takes a deep breath, "We need to talk."

Lucas hesitates, "Wow, it must be pretty big. You did that deep preparation breath you always do before you tell me something bad."

"I just," she pauses to clear her throat and take another one of those suspicious breaths that Lucas was referring to, "I don't want you to find this out form someone else, because I realized—after watching just about any teenage drama—that lying to you is going to come back to bite me on the ass…"

"Hales," his eyes narrow ever so slightly, "what's going on…?"

Another breath and then she blabs, "I'm tutoring Nathan Scott."

The shock from her statement nearly knocks him right out of his chair. No way in hell could she—_would _she—ever do something like this to him. She's his best friend, his buddy. The only girl who's ever seen him cry besides his mother.

"Lucas," Haley says with a quivering bottom lip, "aren't you going to say anything?"

What is there to say that will prevent him from blowing a fuse? Because at the moment all Lucas can think about is the fact that his best friend has gone behind his back. She's telling him now, why hadn't she told him before?

Nervously she plays with the bracelet around her wrist, a recent accessory that Lucas noticed a few days before. With the sudden revelation she's bestowed upon him, it can only bring him to one devastating conclusion.

"You like him," he mutters without looking at her, "don't you?"

His question is more of a statement and she cringes slightly before bowing her head in shame. Truthfully she has no idea how she feels about Nathan. Does she like him? No, not in that way. But he has something about him that she finds interesting. He's like a new toy with a slight defect.

And she just can't help herself but to try and fix him for some strange reason.

"It's just tutoring, Lucas." She tries to make him see it for what it is.

"How long?" he gulps wondering how long this arrangement has been going on.

"About two weeks," she whispers. "Honestly it hasn't really been _that_ long. I didn't want too much time to pass by and then my telling you ends up looking as if I tried to hide this from you. Because I didn't want to, I just—"

"It doesn't _matter _Haley," he snaps, "why the hell would you agree to do tutor him anyways? You know how he is, you know how much I hate him!"

"Stop yelling at me!" she cries. "Honestly Lucas," she shakes her head at him tearfully, "do you really think I want this?"

"I don't know," he scowls, "because it looks to me like you _want _to spend your time with him."

"Oh my God," she rolls her eyes.

An awkward silence fills the café and Lucas sits with his arms crossed while staring at the table. Haley sighs and plays with the napkin dispenser.

"Haley," he replies softly, "how long are we going to do this?"

"Do what?" she asks watching his profile.

"Avoid each other, because you and I both know that it's going to happen. I'm going to walk away and then you'll disappear for however long…"

She scoffs, "I don't know Lucas, you tell me. You're the one upset."

He turns to face her angrily, "And you're the one who lied to me."

"I don't know what to say to you, Luke," she throws her hands up in defeat.

"Just explain to me why you're tutoring Nathan. Huh? I mean, considering the past few weeks and what he's done…" he shrugs.

"I can't," she shakes her head. She wonders why its so prudent that she not tell him the exact reason _why _she's tutoring Nathan. It's as if telling him would make everything all that much more worse.

But Lucas looks so betrayed as he says, "You know how I feel about him, Haley." Then he gets up to leave and Haley can literally feel him slip away.

"Lucas, fine!" she jumps up from the table and follows him towards the door. "Yes," she nods, "I know how you feel about him. But there is something you don't know."

He watches her as she pulls at the rag on her apron and already he knows he's not going to like what she has to say.

She takes one of those devastating deep breaths, "I promised him I'd tutor him if he left you alone."

"W-what?" he stutters.

Tearfully she removes her apron and shakes her head at him in disappointment, "I'm doing it for you, Luke."

---x---

**November 10****th**** 2006**

Brooke knows this house better than her own. Every corner, every crack, chip or peel and every squeaky floorboard. She's grown up in this house and it's always where she wants to be when she wants to feel safe.

It puts her red door to shame.

Her white sneakers are silent as she sneaks up the wooden stairs. Her hand slides up the railing with each step she climbs. She clenches the white washcloth she's swiped from the kitchen counter in her hand and holds her breath.

Peyton's sitting on her bed scribbling in her sketchbook when she comes to the door and starts waving the little white cloth back and forth.

"Safe yet? No hostile tone, no bitter complaints, no yelling at your best friend because you broke up with your jerk of a boyfriend?" Her brow lifts curious and it makes Peyton smile.

Brooke gasps.

"Oh my god, a smile!" She drops the cloth in shock and presses her hands to her chest.

She should feel bad that just that morning she'd tumbled around in Nathan's bed. It's obvious that this particular break up is effecting Peyton more than the others. But she knows that it's a matter of time before everything is back to normal. Well, as normal as they can be considering her and Nathan's new arrangement.

Plus, the bitch totally had it coming after what she did at last practice.

"Alright. I was a mess last week. I'm sorry." Peyton drops her pen into her book and closes it. She pushes it off her lap and looks up at Brooke guilty with the most sincerest eyes Brooke's seen in weeks.

"Apology accepted!" Brooke grins and hops over to where Peyton's computer is set up. "A-P-O. L-O-G." She pauses and shrugs, "Y? Because I love you." Peyton laughs and she winks at the blonde. "Get your skinny ass up so we can go pick up Rachel and watch the Ravens beat the Pirates."

She spies the webcam and her grin slips into a smirk.

She knows Nathan is watching, because she's just left his house and he knew where she was going. Brooke and Peyton always rode into away games together in her little blue convertible. Then when Rachel came along, she joined in on the party train. So when she winks at the camera she can bet Nathan is licking his lips in anticipation. She bites her bottom lip and lifts her skirt up towards the webcam and flashes her blue bloomers. Peyton sits stunned at her always upbeat best friend and starts to laugh.

"What are you doing?" She asks incredulous.

"What? It's a web cam. It's what they're for." Brooke shrugs carelessly and smoothes her hands down her skirt to bring out the wrinkles.

Peyton would shit a brick if she knew the reason Brooke was teasing her webcam. But what nobody knows is that she kinda hopes Lucas was watching. It would be fun to mess with Nathan but it would be more worth it if Lucas was tuned in.

"Come on," she nods her head and walks over to Peyton. "Oh, but wait…" she pauses as she scrunches up her pom poms in her hands up to her chest.

She stares at Peyton who blinks at her in confusion. For a few seconds they simply stare into each other eyes. Brooke tries not to allow her conscience to come into play but its hard when Peyton's actually being _nice _for once.

Then she remembers why the pom poms are in her hands and she chuckles. Peyton's brow quirks and Brooke flings them into the girls face. "_Now _we're even," she points a slim finger and shoots Peyton a payback smirk.

Peyton gasps in disbelief and a giant grin pulls up over her face before she narrows her eyes playfully, "You're dead!" She shouts.

Brooke zips out the door and Peyton jumps up from her bed, pom poms in hand, and chases Brooke down the stairs, "Dead!" she shouts.

---x---

She's just tied her white sneakers and she's throwing the last of her stuff into her royal blue THH embroidered duffel bag when the phone rings. She almost doesn't answer. She bets that it's Brooke and she'll be seeing the brunette in fifteen minutes anyway so there's really no point, yet out of habit she reaches out and grabs her cell.

"What, skank? Chill alright. I'll be right down."

"Down where?"

It's not Brooke's raspy voice. It's Owen's gruff tone.

"Oh, sorry," she mumbles and jams her make-up kit into the canvas bag. "I thought you were Brooke."

"Are you at home?" he asks incredulously and his tone tells her that he's not amused. "I thought you were on your way already?"

"Uhm," she stalls for a second while trying to figure out why he's being all grumpy but nothing comes to mind and she's in a hurry. She doesn't have time for his stupid mood-swings. "To where?" she asks for him to clarify.

"My _game_, Raye," he growls. "Me, playing offensive quarterback against Notre Dame. You, cheering me on in that tiny skirt of yours. Ring a bell?"

Oh, fuck…

"Look babe, some other time, okay? I totally forgot that the Ravens have an away-game and Brooke is picking me up in less than fifteen minutes." She pulls out a drawer in search for her blue hair-ribbon. "How about I come up to Duke tomorrow?" she adds with a sultry voice, "I'll make it up to you…"

Owen scoffs. "Naw, you go do your thing, _babe_. I'll be tired."

Suddenly annoyed, she zips her sports bag and makes a face into the phone, directed towards the guy on the other end. Why is he tripping all of a sudden? It's just a freaking game.

"Whatever," she snaps. "I'm not some little Barbie that you can boss around. I have a game too, Owen. Why are you acting like a fucking three-year old?"

"You told me you'd come," he continues pouting.

"Yeah? Well, I changed my mind. I have cheer-duty, okay?" she mutters and hikes her bag up on her shoulder. She's not sure why she doesn't just hang up in his ear as usual. Maybe because she _did_ promise? But who cared what was said late at night when one was naked and semi-sober, right?

"What would I even do there," she mutters even more annoyed, and also severely disappointed in herself for even pausing to accommodate his current tantrum. Since when in the fuck did she say shit like this to guys? "The girls that go to your games are groupies." She rolls her eyes and walks over to double check her makeup in her vanity mirror in her room.

She can hear him mutter something under his breath, something that sounds very much like '_it's good enough for Sandra and Kelly_' and upon hearing this—she gasps.

"Tell me you're not talking about 'Sandra and Kelly' as in your teammates' _girlfriends_, Owen… I don't give a shit about what's good enough for your friends and their brainless little bimbos! Because in case you've forgotten?" she snorts, "I don't do stupid shit like that. Who the hell do you think I am, _Owen?_"

She spits his name into the phone like a bad taste and Owen growls back at her dangerously. "Watch your mouth, Raye. All I fucking asked for was some slight support from you at my game. Something that wasn't horizontal and executed while drunk," his voice is sarcastic and cold but she can hear that he's both pissed at her and hurt.

And she's just about to tell him to stop behaving like a baby, when he mumbles, "What's so bad about being my girlfriend, huh?"

Her eyes grow wide and she looks at the cell phone in sheer disbelief. What the hell? They had both agreed not to do titles. This wasn't about some puppy crush. She and Owen were just a perfect hook-up. Over and over again.

"I'm not your property," she states and starts to walk downstairs to wait for Brooke. "You don't own me. You're not my mother, my dad and you know what _I'm_ not?" she pauses and he waits, "I'm not your freaking girlfriend."

He chuckles dryly, "Apparently not… my mistake, thanks for the clarification though."

And then she hears the click signaling that he's hung up.

She screams out in frustration, furious that he even has the guts to do such a thing. And she calls him back on speed dial, ready to tell him to shove his game up his ass. But then Brooke's little blue beetle honks outside and she takes a couple of deep breaths and ends the call before he has time to pick up.

Damn straight she's not his girlfriend. She never will be.

---x---

It's an hour before he has to meet everyone back at school to ride the team bus to Pickerington. But he has to see her before he goes. She's his best friend.

Haley's sitting on her bed reading a book when he shyly leans against her doorframe and grabs her attention by releasing a long deep sigh. When her eyes dart up from the paperback he feels a twinge of guilt for disturbing her.

"I'm an idiot," he states simply.

Haley closes her book between a finger and looks up at him, "Yeah," she nods, "I know."

"I'm sorry," he says moving further into the room. "I miss you, Hales."

She refuses to give in so easily, even though she desperately just wants her best friend back. "You were a major ass-nugget the other day, Luke."

He blushes and inches closer to her bed, "Yeah, I know." He nods and sets a hand down onto her bedpost with a small shrug. "It's just… listen," he sighs as he decides to sit down on her bed and turn his body to face her. "I appreciate everything you did for me. I do, Haley, but—how about you let me handle the team from now on, okay?"

She hesitates, because she cares too much about him to see him treated so badly. If she could she'd beat up every kid who so much as sneezed in his direction the wrong way. It's what she did, she took care of him. He's her Luke, she's his Hales.

But he's right. She should let him handle this current situation on his own.

"Okay," she agrees reluctantly.

He smiles and it's contagious.

"All right," he pats her knee with his hand. "So you can…" he pauses and she places her hand over his, "stop tutoring Nathan now."

Her fingers slide away from his.

"Um, no," her head shakes, "I can't."

Lucas sets his intense blue irises down at her in an powerful stare that makes her feel scrutinized. "Haley," his tone is as reprimanding as it is condescending.

"Lucas," she sighs, "I can't, okay? I promised him. If I break that promise, then… then I'm just as bad as you think _he_ is." She explains and from the look on his face she can tell it goes in one ear and out the other.

"But you like him," he blinks over at her accusingly.

She rolls her eyes annoyed, "For the umpteenth time—no!"

"I want to believe you, Haley. I do." He stands up from the bed slowly. "But I don't think you're telling the truth."

"I am telling the truth Lucas. There's nothing going on."

Then his eyes fix onto her wrist, "Nice bracelet."

Instinctively she brings her hand up to cradle it to her chest.

"Luke," she follows him to the door, "don't be mad. It's not like that, I swear. You're my best friend and I would never hurt you like that."

He sighs, "I know."

"Then why are you acting like this?" she wants to know. "Like you don't trust me."

"Because, Haley," he rubs a hand over his face. "It's not that I don't trust you. It's that I don't trust _him_. And I don't think you can tell the difference between true and false when it comes to him. He's really good at what he does, Haley. Be careful."

She's not quite sure what he's getting at but she nods, "I will."

"You coming to the game tonight?" he asks her.

"_Coming to the game tonight?" his eyes are so like his brothers but that devilish smile is definitely _not _like Lucas._

_She hesitates, "Um… I don't know."_

_Nathan flashes a big grin and she thinks she can actually see hell fire behind those eyes of his, "You should come. We always beat the crap out of the Pickerington Hicks."_

"_They're called the Hicks?" she asks confused.  
_

"_Well no," he shakes his head, "but they should be. The place is all pickup trucks and mulch." He makes a face and she laughs at him. But then he stops and looks down at her with a different approach then he ever has before, " It's definitely worth the road trip. I'll look for you."_

"Well?" Lucas pries, "Are you?"

She forces a smile that to him seems genuine and she almost hates herself for keeping such simple, meaningless things from him.

"Yeah," she nods, "I'll see you there."

---x---

She enters the gym with Peyton and Rachel flanking her sides and a chip on her shoulder. She feels great. Peyton isn't being a bitch, Rachel isn't complaining and Nathan hasn't pissed her off all day.

They throw their stuff down on their side of the court and start to stretch. Nathan nods his head at them and Peyton smiles slightly. Brooke fights not to roll her eyes and glares at Rachel who snickers behind a hand.

The countdown is at 3 minus two hours before they're back together. So now Brooke needs to find something to help pass the time until their next tryst. Then a tall athletic blonde brooder strides past in a warm up jog and Brooke groans.

"Oh, see, Lucas looks even hotter in blue." She sighs and Rachel steps beside her to agree. "You should totally hook up with him." Brooke says to Peyton because she wants to know where she stands.

Does she want Nathan back or is she going to go for the other Scott? Brooke doesn't understand what the fuck it is about her that's grabbed Lucas' attention but whatever. It can only last so long. She'll give Peyton a chance because they're friends and because she's fucking with Nathan when they're on breaks.

But after that? Game on bitch.

"Stop it." Peyton rolls her eyes annoyed.

"What? At the very least you're due for a little rebound action," she nudges her, "unless you're still into Nathan."

Rachel clears her throat and Brooke ignores her.

"I'm not." Peyton says a little too quickly.

Brooke knows better, "Alright. Since you're my pal you can have a courtesy hold on Lucas for the weekend, but after that he's fair game."

Rachel's jaw drops and she stares at Brooke with wide eyes.

"He's already fair game, thanks." Peyton sighs.

"_Bullshit_." Rachel sneezes.

"Excuse me?" Peyton snaps angrily.

"What?" Rachel shrugs innocently.

Brooke lets it pass and she's glad Peyton does too. Shocked as she may be, she's glad for it. She looks out onto the court, catches Nathan eyes and just before she's about to give him the nod, she notices a new face in the crowd.

"So what's the story with that one anyway?" She juts her chin out towards the mousy girl in the stands.

Everyone's attention moves over into the direction Brooke's pointed out.

"She's tutoring Nathan… supposedly." Peyton lifts a shoulder and crosses her arms across her chest.

"And hanging out with Lucas. Right…" Brooke scoffs. "We're supposed to believe she's just friends with both of them?"

They all look back at Haley just in time to see Nathan nod his head at her. She nods back with a slight smile and both Rachel and Brooke gasp in shock.

"Did you see that?" Brooke nudges Peyton.

"What?" Peyton replies uninterested.

"Nathan just gave her the nod." Brooke says in disbelief. _What the fuck?_ That was supposed to be _her _nod. Not some two-bit tramp tutor.

"What nod?" Peyton's dry tone is really starting to piss her off.

Even Rachel's a little annoyed of Peyton's nonchalant attitude.

"You know, for someone who's just one blowjob away from getting back with her boyfriend, you're sure acting cavalier." Rachel grunts.

"What _nod_?" Peyton replies serious, "I have no idea what you two are even talking about!" She shouts.

"The '_lets hook up after the game_' nod." Brooke brings to her attention and when Peyton's eyes finally start to narrow in the girls direction Brooke knows she can rest easy. Lucas is all hers.

"Wanna know what I think?" Rachel pipes in. "I think Nathan likes tutor girl. But I think tutor girl likes Lucas. And I _know_ I Brooke wants Lucas." She laughs and Brooke shrugs with a smirk. "And I don't know who the hell _you_ like anymore." Rachel leans over Brooke to say to Peyton.

"This is all turning into one big love…" Brookes face scrunches up as she struggles to find a suitable word, "rectangle plus one—whatever that is." She blurts out and they all laugh and get back into formation.

---x---

He doesn't know what the hell is going through this bozos head. Nathan is sure Lucas was dropped on his head as a child. At least, that's the impression he gives him tonight as he fumbles the ball for the tenth time.

They're up by three when they should be _killing _the damn Pirates. Or the _Pickerington Hicks_ as Nathan likes to say. But instead they're neck and neck and he can't fucking concentrate with Brooke shaking her ass and Peyton screaming his name.

When Lucas barely manages to throw a decent pass, Nathan's had enough. He storms towards him and grabs his shoulder and snaps, "Hey. Why don't you try putting your hands up on defense, alright?"

"Why don't you try not getting beat?" Lucas scowls back at him.

"Why don't I just beat your ass?" Nathan bites back and shakes his head before he starts to walk away. "Moron… keep it up, punk."

A whistle blows and the referee throws the ball in and shouts out the signal.

"Hey, you gonna talk or you gonna play, Daddy's boy?" Lucas taunts Nathan, he's so sick of listening to his negative rips at his game.

"Hey, Haley's looking pretty fine tonight, right? Can't wait to get with that." Nathan narrows his eyes at Lucas.

Because they're more focused on taunting each other, damn the Pirates get another basket. Nathan curses under his breath and grabs the ball to check it back into the game. He nods at Haley who gives a small wave of acknowledgement.

Lucas is sick of this. He jogs over to the cheerleaders and steps in front of Peyton. "Hey. So I saw Nathan in the shower… yeah, no wonder you broke up with him."

Brooke bursts out laughing and Rachel snickers into her shoulder. Lucas smirks at them and runs off. It takes a very brave boy to go against Nathan and every time Lucas challenges him—Brooke wants him more.

Peyton blinks in shock and Rachel circles around the back of Brooke to nudge her.

"Any truth to that?" She snorts and Peyton presses a hand to her lips to keep from giggling.

Nathan can barely stand it. Brooke is eyeing him with a smirk on her face and Peyton and Rachel are giggling together—which is shocking in its own way. Who the hell does Lucas think he is?

He squeezes the ball in his hands and eyes Lucas as she continues on past him. He turns and looks at Brooke. She shakes her head, he's not quite sure what she means but he's pretty sure by the way she's eyeing the stands that she's looking at Haley. Fucking Lucas, if it weren't for him he wouldn't need to use Haley.

The ball in his hands grows heavy and before he knows it it's flying out of his hands. It slams into Luke's back and bounces off him hard enough to make everyone wince. It's no surprise to Nathan when Lucas whirls around and charges at him.

They hit the ground with a loud _THWACK! _but somehow their landing feels cushioned. But before he can comprehend why the floor is so soft, Lucas jabs a fist into his stomach and their tumbling into more cheerleaders.

_Cheerleaders?_

"Ow!" He hears Brooke cry and he sees Rachel's eyes widen in horror. _Shit_, they're both on top—Lucas gets in another good hit and Nathan blanks. Now he's throwing punches randomly but every hit makes it target. Lucas.

"Get up you fucking assholes! You're crushing Brooke!" Rachel screams and pulls her white sneaker off to throw at the two wrestling brothers.

It thumps Lucas in the back of the head and before Nathan can laugh it ricochets off his forehead. The whistle blows are deafening. So loud that he cringes and so does Lucas. He sees the rest of his teaming coming over to pull them apart but it's Rachel who's brave enough to grab the back of Nathan's jersey and jerk him up.

"What the hell Rachel?" Nathan scowls.

"Ow! Oh _fucking _ow!" Brooke cries into Peyton's shoulder. "Ow—Peyton…" she cringes into the curly haired blonde.

Rachel shoves past Nathan and slams a hand into Jake to shove him backwards and away from Lucas. "Hey asshole," she grabs the front of his jersey, "you have any idea what you've done?"

"Hey!" Whitey's booming voice makes everyone but Rachel turn around.

"You're both pathetic." She lets go and Lucas falls back onto his butt. "You okay B?" She kneels beside her fallen captain and ignores the fuss around them.

"You two! You're out of here!" The referee points at both Nathan and Lucas.

"You're throwing them both out of the game?" Whitey's face pales. His two best players out? He might as well forfeit right there and then.

"I got to, Coach. It's in the rule book, I have to bench the players from both sides who were involved in the fight." The ref shrugs helpless before he blows his whistle again and runs off.

Whitey watches him leave with a red face and shouts, "They're on the same team!"

---x---

Too tight, too loose—is this fucker really going to pursue a career in medicine? He can't even fix the ace wrap around her ankle! But she has to say, she loves college guys. She loves it even more when they have something she wants and she knows they'll give it to her. All she has to do is bat her lashes and show a little skin.

"So tell me, Doctor College Boy. If you wanted to give me something for the pain, you could, right?" She asks him innocently, her head tilts and her hair falls down over her right shoulder.

She can see Rachel shaking her head and laughing from the window behind Dr. College Idiot and smirks.

"Well, the team doctor would have to…"

She adjusts her position on the bench so that her skirt rises up higher on her thighs. He's so simple. Even Nathan wouldn't crumble so easily.

His eyes are trained on her legs and he clears his throat several times before stuttering, "I could, I could maybe do that."

Her hand immediately juts out palm side up and she waits for the happy pills to spill into her possession. When he pauses and asks if she's a cop, she laughs and tells him no. He gives her one and she frowns. She gets him to give her one more and then she pops them both in her mouth and dry swallows.

When Dr. boy turns around to give her a warning about how strong the pills are he finds that he is too late.

And Brooke can only shrug with a grin and say,

"Oops! All gone!"

---x---

He can't freaking believe Whitey kicked them off the bus. They wouldn't be in this damn mess if it weren't for Lucas. He voices this opinion and Lucas has the audacity to call him a jackass. All Nathan wants to do is shove a fist into his mouth and watch his eyelids flutter before he passes out.

It's sick and all kinds of twisted but it's just the way he feels.

"Why do you want my life so bad anyway, man?" He scoffs and kicks a rock down the empty road ahead of them.

Lucas can hardly believe this guy. "Dude, don't flatter yourself, alright?" He pauses in the middle of the street, "You're about the last person I want to trade places with." He shakes his head disgusted.

"Oh yeah? Well all I know is you came out nowhere and started grabbing everything you could from me. My game, my girls…" He grunts and shakes his head.

No one catches the slight slip of the tongue on Nathans's part.

"What about you, huh? I bet your grades sucked before you met me. But I didn't see you going to Haley for help then." Lucas scowls.

"Who said what me and Haley's got is about grades." Nathan's lips curl into a lucrative leer that makes Lucas clench his hands at his sides.

Then a car pulls up full of guys calling them Ravens and offering them a ride. He doesn't care how suspiciously retarded they look because he doesn't want to walk all the way to Tree Hill. Especially with Lucas.

"I wouldn't take that ride if I was you." Lucas tries to warn him. He doesn't trust these guys as far as he can throw them.

He knows Lucas is right but because he hates him so much he refuses to listen. He's seen the eyes Brooke's been throwing at him all night. What's more is the ass was completely oblivious to her insinuation expressions.

"You're not me. You never will be." He shakes his head and spits on the ground.

He walks to the car and before he knows it, he's pulled into the backseat. Struggling is useless because there are two guys holding him in place. He can only watch as the car backs up slowly and pauses so that the driver and talk to Lucas.

"Two little Ravens for the price of one." The a-hole smirks. "Get in or the superstar dies." He jerks his chin so that Lucas will follow his orders and climb into the backseat with Nathan.

He's still fighting the two sets of hands that restrain him in the back but his eyes are staring at Lucas. They lock gazes for a few tantalizing seconds and Nathan almost tells him to eat shit and die. Because he knows Lucas is going to do the right thing, he's going to get in the fucking car.

Luke hesitates, and he knows it's only because he's human and Nathan has done nothing to ever earn this kind of loyalty. When Lucas slides into the backseat beside him he resists the urge to mutter a bitter, '_this changes nothing'_ but thinks better of it. This must be the reason Whitey looks at him like he's some kind of golden child.

Nathan wonders how his life would be if Dan had chosen Karen over his mother. Would they still be here in this situation. Would he have been the one on the outside staring in at his half-brother while two guys held him captive?

But more importantly; if he was Lucas, would he have gotten in the car?

---x---

"Peyton!" She squeals out delightfully and drapes herself across the confused looking goldilocks. Completely bypassing Haley who was engaged in conversation with Peyton.

"Oh boy." Is the only thing Peyton can think to say as she eyes Rachel who nods her head at the approaching medical assistant.

"Hi." The guys says looking all kinds of guilty.

"This is my best friend in the whole wide world. Don't you think she's pretty?" Brooke latches onto Peyton tighter and presses her cheek to the side of Peyton's horrified face.

"What is this?" Peyton stares back at him in wonder.

He shifts in his shoes and shrugs, "She found some pills… on the floor." He adds quickly and no one buys it but they let him continue anyways. "She'll be fine. Just uh, let her sleep it off."

Rachel scoffs and shakes her head, "Found them on the floor?" she snaps and it makes everyone in the room but Brooke flinch.

"Yeah," he nods nervously.

"Dude," Rachel rolls her eyes, "are you effing kidding me? I mean do you seriously think we're going to believe that story? How many did you give her?" She crosses her arms over her chest.

"I didn't—"

"Three!" Brooke giggles and hides her face into Peyton's shoulder shyly.

"It was two!" The guy corrects her in his own defense and gasps once he's realized his mistake. "_Shit_." He curses under his breath.

"Whatever, you can go now." Rachel dismisses him and turns to Brooke who's eyes go wide just before she shouts "_Hey! Ooh, call me!" _and collapses into Haley's arms.

It takes both Peyton and Rachel to subdue Brooke who is all over the place and oddly she pushes them away to lean on Haley.

They're outside Pickerington High with Haley still supporting most of Brooke's weight when Brooke decides that she has a new best friend.

"We should totally hang out more. What is your name?" Brooke asks innocently shoving her own face into Haley's.

"Haley," she replies reluctantly and grimaces when Brooke shifts her weight to lean into Haley even more.

"Yeah. I don't like that name." She shakes her head. "Let's call you… Brooke!" She pokes Haley in the nose and giggles.

Haley ignores her and shakes her head. She can't believe she's here with three of Tree Hill's most popular cheerleaders. Why did she think she had enough time to use the restroom before her bus left? Because she missed it and now here she was with a new name and a new set of 'friends.'

Peyton is idling in the driver's seat of Brooke's little blue beetle with Rachel in the passenger seat. The top is down and Peyton waves them over for Haley to bring the reigning cheer captain towards the back.

"Hi friend!" Brooke chirps happily spotting her two best friends.

"Just get your ass in the car." Rachel groans and steps outside to help Haley get the over intoxicated B. Davis into the backseat.

"Thanks." Peyton says because she knows Rachel won't.

Haley's is seconds away from freedom when Peyton brings up the fact that she's missed the last fan bus. Haley wants to say _well, duh _but thinks better of it. Peyton's being nice to her and Rachel isn't sneering nearly as much as usual.

"So you don't have a ride then?" Peyton says and Rachel throws her head back against the seat rest with a very irritated groan.

"That's perfect. Brookie can come with us!" Brooke yelps and throws a hand out for Haley with outstretched fingers wiggling for her to take.

"Yeah, she named me Brooke." Haley explains when both Peyton and Rachel give her confused looks.

"Peyton, can she come? Please? Peyton, please!" Brooke begins to beg and Rachel turns around to glare at her.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She snaps at Brooke who blinks back in a very childlike way before she just her bottom lip out. "Oh, hell." Rachel rolls her eyes and waves a hand out, "get in tutor-girl." She growls.

"Just don't touch the stereo. Or we'll have a problem." Peyton snaps to Rachel and slaps her hand away.

Rachel's face scowls back, "Oh I know you didn't just—"

"Road trip!" Brooke squeals and pulls Haley into the backseat. She grabs her pom poms and shakes them all over the place happily. "We're going on a road trip. We're going on a road trip."

"Oh my god, shoot me now." Rachel groans.

---x---

By this time Brooke will not stop hitting Peyton with her pompoms when she's trying to drive. She even snaps at Rachel to get control over her but its fruitless because all Rachel does is scowl back at her.

"Brooke! Come on…" Peyton grimaces and rolls her eyes when Brooke throws her pom poms out the window while giggling and claps her hands giddily.

"Don't you two like the same guys?" Brooke pokes her head into the front seat and looks at Peyton then pulls back to look at Haley. "Or guy, or something?"

Peyton pauses to look into the rearview mirror at Haley who simply says, "I'm just tutoring him, that's all."

Rachel snorts and Brooke leans back into her seat with a huge sigh. She doesn't believe them. She would say so but all she wants to do right now is dance.

"So you're not into him? Because he seems to be into you." Peyton replies and Rachel turns her face to look at Haley expectantly.

"He gave her the nod!" Brooke shouts looking outside the back window and spelling her name in the window after breathing onto the glass.

"Yeah, what was that about?" Rachel says because she wants to know. If not only for the sake of her own amusement, she knows Brooke would want to know. Even though she's currently too busy counting her fingers and wiggling them in front of her face.

"You guys ever notice how cool fingers are?" She replies and no one answers her, they're still waiting for Haley's response.

"It's nothing," she says, "We're just friends."

"Ohhh, so you went from '_just tutoring_' to '_just friends?_' Sounds like tutorgirl moves fast?" Rachel teases.

"Who's fast?" Brooke throws her body forward into the front seat.

"So do you like him?" Peyton asks casually, but Rachel knows she's full of shit. The girl is two seconds from jumping over the seat to attack her. "Do you?" Peyton pushes the subject enough to make Brooke turn to Haley with interest.

"Answer the question, Brooke." She blinks at Haley and waits.

"Well, what about you and Lucas?" Haley shoots back at Peyton to get their minds off of her.

"What about us?" Peyton's face wrinkles.

"Oh, Lucas!" Brooke yelps. "He is so hot." She pretends to fan herself, actually she really is rather warm.

"Oh, come on. Tortured artist meets tortured athlete? Talk about your obvious attraction." Haley mutters and turns her face to look out her window.

"Yeah well, I'm not into him." Peyton shakes her head and narrows her eyes at Haley through the rearview mirror.

"_Bullshit!_" Rachel pretends to sneeze and Brooke giggles hysterically.

"I let that slide the first time Rachel. But now I want to know what the hell you're trying to say?" She snaps.

"Peyton, don't listen to her. It might be a trick." Brooke whispers as her eyes dart all around the car.

"Brooke, shut your trap." Rachel snaps and turns back to Peyton. "I'm saying you're full of shit. Everyone knows you and Lucas are hot for each other."

"But she didn't get the nod!" Brooke shouts up to the ceiling. "I could so get the nod. From both of 'em." She mumbled under her breath.

"What is a 'nod' exactly?" Haley wants to know. Brooke whispers the truth into the girls ear and the tutor gasps in shock.

"So _now _will you tell us if you're into Natey boy?" Brooke wiggles her brow. "Come on Brooke! You can tell us!" She nudges Haley with her shoulder and nods her head enthusiastically.

"I'm not into him—"

"Lies!" Brooke yelps and smacks a hand into Haley's shoulder. "Come _on! _We're your friends." She whines. "Just what exactly do you two do all day on the docks?" She pulls at the cracker jack bracelet and stares at Haley deliberately.

"Why are you so adamant in asking me if there is anything going on between Nathan and I?" Haley questions Brooke skeptically.

"Why are you so hesitant to just answer the question?" Her laugh us haughty as she not-so-playfully nudges Haley once more.

"Leave her alone Brooke," Peyton rolls her eyes in the front.

"No," Brooke sounds like a spoiled child, "she has to answer. I want to know why she's been wearing that crackerjack bracelet since they started tutoring!" Her stare is intense and full of hazy skepticism.

Haley's eyes go wide. "I-I-I—"

"Y-y-you what? Come on, out with it already Brooke! You're starting to piss me off." Brooke frowns in distaste and heaves a great sigh.

"Brooke!" Rachel barks.

"What? I want to know!" She pouts further and crosses her arms across her chest.

"B, it's cool. Forget it, I don't even care." Peyton shakes her head.

But Brooke cares. She cares so much she continuously stares at Haley. Her eyes are glossy and her body sluggish but Haley feels like there is something inside of her that is perfectly sober.

"Look, we are just friends." Haley cannot stress this enough. "I'm Lucas' best friend, I would never do that to him." She shakes her head.

Brooke chews on her bottom lip in deep thought. So Lucas would disown her if she showed an interest in Nathan? Did that mean she would have to stop seeing Nathan? Well, in order to get on Luke's good side it seemed like a good idea. She suddenly had another good idea, no, a _great _idea.

_Streaking. _How awesome would it be to strip down to her skivvies and run down the road beside the car singing her favorite song?

"Just drop it, will you?" Peyton snaps suddenly when no one will shut up about the Nathan thing.

"Fine, we'll drop it." Rachel smirks and throws a wink at Brooke. "But you have to tell us about Lucas." Her tongue slides across her perfect white teeth. She stares at Peyton like a feline narrowing its pupils at a pigeon.

"Oh my god, just drop me off here on the side of the road. If I don't make it back home, just tell my mom I loved her?" Haley jokes in hopes of lightening the mood.

"Don't you mean _Nathan_?" Brooke laughs.

"What the fuck is your problem Rachel?" Peyton growls. "Why do you care so much? Do _you _want him?"

"I'm just curious to know if you're a dyke or not." Rachel shrugs and flips her hair over a shoulder carelessly.

Peyton mouth drops open and Haley's eyes widen. Brooke sways back in forth in the backseat to imaginary music only she can hear. Wow, those pills are something. She wonders if she'll be sober enough to sneak into Nathan's room tonight.

"Peyton, you're not getting back together with Nathan anytime soon, are you?" Brooke questions her and bites her bottom lip. "Please say no." She adds desperately.

Rachel clenches her eyes and shakes her head.

"Why would you ask me something like that?" Peyton's face twists into a frown as she skeptically starts to turn her face to face the back.

"Because I—"

"Peyton!" Rachel shrieks and jerks the wheels back onto the road. "Pay attention!" She hisses at her angry. Her eyes flash to the rearview mirror to catch Brooke's gaze and she shakes her head disappointed.

Brooke puts her head down into Haley's lap and closes her eyes. She feels so tired, her sight has been blurry for the past hour and the urge to dance has long sense faded away. All she wants to do now is snuggle up beside a warm body and sleep. Like Nathan's firm muscular body pressing against hers and warming her up. Or Luke's tall athletic build wrapping around her and keeping her safe.

But for now she guesses Haley will just have to do.

---x---

He can hear them taunting them out in the distance. He hates hiding but he has no choice because he's just too damn tired to do anything else. After outsmarting the three stooges from Pickerington, fighting with Luke (_twice _in one night, he thinks that's a record) and walking for what felt like seven football fields…

All he wants to do is go home and curl up in bed. Preferably beside Brook who can do wonderful things with her mouth. She's so soft and she smells so damn good, he shivers at the thought and shakes his head clear.

"Still out there." Lucas mumbles and brings Nathan from out of his trance.

"They'll get bored eventually." Nathan waves a hand out and rests his arms on his knees.

"So that was a pretty good move with the car keys." Lucas says and moves to sit down beside him.

He wants to snap at his half-brother and remind him that they are not friends and never will be friends. He wants to curl a fist and shove it into the guys face just to make him shut up. Is it really even necessary for them to talk to each other right now?

"Yeah," he replies despite how he feels, "it doesn't change the fact that my dad's gonna kill me for getting kicked out of that game." He shrugs and grabs a rock from the ground to toss it out into the woods.

From the corner of his eye he sees Lucas turn to look at him before quickly looking away. Too afraid of being caught expressing anything other than extreme indifference towards his absent father's other son. Nathan can relate. In more ways than one.

"You should consider yourself lucky sometimes." He grimaces. He really doesn't want to get into this. He really doesn't but the words come out before he can stop them.

He tells Lucas about the time in little league. When he threw 4 straight pitches that were nothing close to a strike and sent the legendary Billy Lyons to first base. He had thought it was a smart move. A good tactic to use for a kid who hit a homerun every time he touched a bat to a ball. Instead Dan had humiliated him in front of the entire team and sent him to the bench.

He never mentioned it again.

But Nathan remembers it like it was yesterday. He even absently rubs a hand over his right ass cheek. With a grimace as he remembers how his dad had kicked his ass so hard he had to hold him still to keep him from flying across the field.

"That sucks." Is all Lucas can think to say in response.

"Yeah." He pauses and looks up at the stars. "So just think about that the next time you're feeling sorry for yourself." He mutters and stands up to start walking again.

He has no idea how good he has it. He has no idea how good he's _going _to have it. Nathan shakes his head and tries not to imagine Lucas with Brooke, but he knows better.

Brooke always gets what she wants.

---x---

Music blasts out from the speakers so loud it feels like her skull is going to crack. Her memory is fuzzy so she has no idea why Peyton is driving her car. Her brain pulses from inside her head and she presses a hand to her forehead and scowls at Rachel when she starts to laugh at her.

She starts to ask where the hell they are and she's startled when Haley James mutters, "Miles from normal."

"What is she doing here?" She slides up in between Peyton and Rachel in the front seat and asks while jutting a thumb back towards Haley.

"You invited her!" Both Peyton and Rachel shout and laugh together.

Brooke isn't sure which is weirder. The fact that Haley is sitting beside her, or the fact that Peyton and Rachel are laughing together. Did she wake up in the damn Twilight Zone or something?

"What the hell? You two don't actually think you're going to be friends tomorrow, do you?" She scoffs and looks between the two upfront.

Rachel turns to look at Peyton who does the same and looks at Rachel. They both smirk and look at Brooke, "_Duh!"_

She winces at the high pitch tone they use to shout at her and scowls at the radio. "Peyton turn your stupid emo shit off. It's making my head pound." She snaps and reached out to lower the volume.

"Chill out sleeping bitchy, I liked you better when you were unconscious." Rachel snorts and slaps Brooke's hand away from the stereo. "And for your information that was my music you just insulted."

"Well it still sucked." Brooke mutters.

Haley laughs under her breath and Brooke jerks her head to look at her. Her scowl turns into a frown as she eyes the bracelet on the girls wrist. She scoffs and looks out the window in annoyance when Haley shyly pulls her arm into her coat and out of sight.

Haley didn't expect that the four of them would bond and become friends. Things like that only happened in movies or tv shows. Not in real life—not in _her _life. Girls like Brooke, Rachel and Peyton did not willingly converse with girls like Haley. It was against the laws of physics.

Lucas was the only one who understood this and she longed to be with her best friend again. Sitting in a car with Tree Hill's most popular mean girls was starting to give her heartburn. She grimaces and instinctively her hand moves to cover her chest when another wave of nausea overcomes her. She doesn't like the way Brooke is looking at her, like she has something the girls wants. She has nothing and she thinks surely Brooke should know this.

Rachel switches the CD to one of Peyton's choices and the two share a look of appreciation. Brooke can hardly believe her eyes. The night has been full of surprises and just when she thinks nothing else can happen to make things even more bizarre…

She sees them.

"What the…" Rachel scoffs in disbelief as Peyton slows to a stop.

"Lucas and Nathan?" Haley blinks several times in shock.

Brooke flies forward and she thinks her stomach has hit the floor.

"There is no way we're all going to fit." Peyton groans.

"We will if Brooke sits in Luke's lap." Rachel twists around and winks at her friend.

---x---

_As happens sometimes a moment settled…_

The top is down and the wind is cool against her skin. She's almost completely sober and now she's just tired. She can't deny the fact that she fits so easily into Lucas that it's as if she were molded for his body alone. Her back rests against the side door while her legs hang over his knees. His arm lays casually behind her back and curves around her waist to help secure her position in his lap.

Nathan is not happy about this arrangement and he hates that Rachel keeps sneaking him amused looks. She knows this bothers him and he hates her for it. Why couldn't she have sit in his lap? Peyton wouldn't have questioned it. He knows she wouldn't have. She's clueless and always will be until the day he gets the guts to tell her to her face.

His jaw tenses when Rachel's shoulders shake with laughter and she turns to look into the back. Haley sits silent and barely moving between him and Lucas and he wonders if she's asleep. His eyes flicker to Brooke and stay there as she slides down Luke's chest to rest her head on his shoulder. His hands clench when her eyes lock with is.

…_and hovered and remained for much more than a moment…_

He can't believe her. Was she for real? Haley shifts and it's then he notices she actually _is _asleep. Based on the way her breathing is so settled and her eyes remain shut when they roll over a pothole in the road.

Peyton circles the car around a steep curve and the momentum causes Haley's head to brush against his shoulder. She stays there even after they've straightened back out and when he sees Brooke's brow arch at the sight and he decides to let her stay there. He pulls his arm out and rests it around the girl's shoulders, receiving a warning glare from Lucas, he chuckles.

…_and sound stopped and movement stopped…_

Haley is beside him but his eyes cannot leave the girl in his brother's lap. She looks adorable in her cheer outfit and warm up sweater. Her legs are smooth and tan against the dark blue of Luke's jeans and he has to look away from her. Because it's torture to keep staring at something he'll never have.

Her hair flies into her eyes and he almost raises a hand to brush it away. She curls the wayward strand behind her ear and licks her lips. He catches her eyes and instinctively gives her a small smile. The corner of her lips pull up in return and he feels his entire body heat up.

… _for much, much more than a moment…  
_

He's about to give her the nod, the one that says everything he cannot say out loud. He wants her. In his room, in his bed and in his arms. Wants to feel her soft body beneath his and grip her thighs in his hands. He wants to hear the small gasp of breath from between her lips when he slides into her.

He puts her small smirk into mental memory and raises his chin when she suddenly averts her gaze to her lap and turns away. His face immediately falls in confusion and then before he knows it or has time to make her change her mind, they're in Tree Hill again.

_And then the moment was gone._

---x---

Big thank you's to:

Helen (HeleItsMe)

Lizzy (BrucasLove 123)

Ellis (Fire Tears X)

Stefy (stefyboh)

Chey (jeytonbrucasnaley)

Amanda (Ali-Chan1)

Bella

Audra (albluvscbg)

Chasitybsp

Brucas2918

Chebelle

Meevertz

Katie

Brathan23

JustNothing

AliThompson

Crimson-Kiss17

Jem (flipflopgal)

Kristin (evergloweyes)

KHU (Kagome Higurashi-Uzumaki)

B.

Brucas10

Rachtree


	10. Throwing Stones At Glass Houses

Authors note: Late but finally up. The new chapter… /E&L

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 9: **_Throwing Stones At Glass Houses_

**Junior Year**

---x---

_**November 11**__**th**__** 2006**_

The morning after the Pickerington game, when he walks onto school campus, he knows that today will be different than any other day. Today the latest gossip is spreading around the school faster than a raging forest fire. Suddenly he is front page news.

Nathan Scott has dumped Peyton Sawyer.

The couple has broken up a million times before, but everyone knows that the decision has always been Peyton's. This time the grapevine whispers a whole different story. Nathan Scott has done the dumping and apparently he's even gone as far as to take back his letter-jacket.

There is no explanation though regarding this current change in rotation and for the first time the couple is not yelling their lungs out at each other either. Tree Hill's on-off couple simply ignore each other rather than snap at each other. And when Peyton walks by him in the corridor before homeroom, arm linked with Brooke, he even raises his chin in a silent 'Hello.'

Tree Hill is off balance and everyone wants to know why. The cold shoulder is instead lukewarm. Their cold stares are laced with a challenge rather than their usual defiant smirks.

What the gossipers don't know is that when Nathan Scott broke up with the ever-emo Peyton Sawyer—he had given her an ultimatum. Her answer would make her feel as if she had won the upper hand in the breakup. But what she doesn't know, what everyone won't understand until everything fell into place…

Is that she had chose just the way he had hoped.

---x---

_**November 14**__**th**_

She's still a little shocked.

Three days ago, Nathan had done the unthinkable. _He_ had dumped Peyton. Not the other way around. And yet, during the last two days of him being single, he hasn't approached her once.

She doesn't care though, because Nathan is just supposed to be a fun distraction while she pursues Lucas. She's doesn't care if he touches her in secret or gives her 'the nod' at games. The fact that he hardly notices her and that he spends way too much time at the tutoring center doesn't make her jealous at all.

So when she passes the dark haired Scott while walking back from Spanish, she just shakes her head and continues towards Lucas further down the hall. Nathan is nothing compared to the blond boy ahead. And instead of dwelling more about the past, she brings out her most dimpled smile and walks towards the future.

The reason to all the mood swings and frustration is simple when she thinks about it. She hasn't slept with Lucas yet so of course she's frustrated. Once she does, Nathan will fade and become an unimportant blip on her radar, just like he had been before last spring.

In fact, he kind of already is.

"Hi Luke," she says happily when she reaches his locker, and Lucas returns her grin with a bright smile of his own.

"Hey Brooke." He looks down towards her feet. "How's the ankle? Better?"

Oh my god, she thinks. He cares!

She beams at him and is about to insure him that she can't even feel it anymore, but then she gets the best idea.

"It's still sore," she says with a crooked and half-sad smile. "How much do you _weigh_?"

Instantly Lucas looks guilty. And she loves that he cares _that_ much. About _her_.

"I'm really sorry, Brooke," he mumbles and averts his eyes back to the floor. "It was stupid… I shouldn't have gone off on Nathan…"

She brushes it off with a smile that could light up a small country.

"You know what?" she murmurs and links his arm with his. "I bet I'd feel better if I had ice cream. How about you treat me to some before homeroom?"

When he nods and leads the way, she realizes that the anger from before is vanquished. Her mood is suddenly as bright as a sunny Saturday morning. And she thinks that anytime now, things are going back to go back to normal.

No, actually she's _sure_ they will.

---x---

_**November 17**__**th**_

Lucas wishes he were anywhere else but where he stands now outside his uncle's truck about to embark towards the Scott residence. He's on the team now, so events such as these require his presence.

No matter how badly he wants to turn around and head back home.

"Here we go," Karen is heard whispering under her breath uneasily.

He feels for her, she shouldn't have to go through this. How could he do this to her? Watching his uncle Keith reach out to place a warm hand on his mom's shoulder, he comes up with a small plan.

"We don't have to do this, ma," Lucas tells his mom.

"Don't be silly," she shakes her head, "it's fine. This isn't about me, it's about… charity." She replies somewhat conflicted.

Keith's hand tightens on her shoulder and he says something into her ear that makes her sigh and nod.

"Hey guys," Lucas pipes up as they walk across the lawn towards the front entrance, "maybe we should have like, a signal. You know, in case one of us wants to leave?"

Keith comes up with a better idea and says, "Maybe we should just leave."

"Oh, come on," he laughs, "that's no fun. How about… _caw!_" he suggests.

"Caw?" Karen frowns.

"Yeah," her son nods. "You know, like a raven—_caw!_" he calls out animatedly.

"Caw!" Karen plays along and laughs.

Lucas can't help but chuckle at how stupid they all must look, "That's the spirit. So, when one of us wants to leave, we just… _caw!_"

His mother shouts it once more and Keith hesitates before doing the same. Lucas laughs and pats his uncle on the back as they walk up the steps that will lead to one hell of a day he bets. If he could, he'd turn around and leave. Any smart person would. Who in their right minds would willfully walk into the gates of Hell?

With a sigh, Lucas turns to his mom, "You ready, mom?

"Ready as I'll ever be," she nods.

Lucas rings the doorbell and together, the three of them wait.

"You know," Karen replies softly, "maybe the best plan is to just avoid him all night," she says referring to Dan, "and then that way—"

The door flies open and with a beaming smile, Dan greets them, "Well, well, come on in…"

_Caw_.

---x---

It's been almost six weeks now, since she stripped in his car, and scoring with Lucas Scott has proven to be harder than Brooke would have thought. Primarily because he seems set on wanting Peyton, and because she doesn't know _how_ to flirt with him.

He's not like Nathan or Vegas or any of the other guys. Sexy smiles and hidden invites to her bed doesn't seem to work, and earlier tonight—at the beginning of the annual basketball banquet at Dan Scott's mansion—when she tried to get him to join her in her parents Jacuzzi earlier this evening, he had looked more scared than interested.

"_Well I was gonna say," she smiled. "…my parents usually close this place down every year, so if we wanted, we could go back to my place and start the party early. We have a Jacuzzi…"_

_Lucas' gaze was still trained on Peyton and he mumbled, "That sounds tempting Brooke…"_

"_And we have me naked in a Jacuzzi," she offered, but the effect was no where near what she was hoping for._

"_Okay… what if I told you there was someone else?"_

_This was much harder than it should be. He looked at her with a soft smile, almost as if he was trying to let her down easily and when she thought about it, it was ridiculous. He should be begging her to flirt with him, not gently turn her down. She batted her eyelashes and let the smile turn wicked. It was time for true war-antics._

_After all, manipulation was one of her greatest talents._

"_Normally I'd suggest a threesome," she purred, "but I think that the person you have in mind is getting back together with her old boyfriend…"_

_She tilted her head innocently to the side and motioned to the left of them. Lucas looked over at Peyton, who by now was busy talking to Nathan, and when she saw the disappointed shadow drift over his face, she felt like she already had the cat in the bag. Then Peyton actually followed Nathan out of the room and Lucas' eyes turned back to her._

"_See what I mean?" she said, and the inwardly smile she was suppressing grew to the size of Texas. Sure, Lucas was walking away, but he'd be back, she just had to wait._

"_You're such a conniving bitch Brooke," Rachel offered from behind and handed her a drink. "I've taught you well."_

_Nodding, she let the hidden smile out._

"_I know."_

She sighs and looks at the bottle of vodka she had nicked from Nathan's secret stash. Empty. Lucas still hadn't 'come back' and it's all just really frustrating. The fact that Peyton keeps acting all weird doesn't help either. Because even though Peyton had clearly denied being into Lucas, it truly looked like she was.

Then on top of it all there's the ongoing complications with Nathan. He should be back with Peyton by now. Right?

But he wasn't, a fact that Rachel kept bringing up every chance she got. Today marked a week, which made the theory of Nathan just trying to make a point seem kind of farfetched. A week marked one of the longest break-ups between her friend and the dark haired Scott-brother so far unless one counted last summer.

Tonight though, he has been following the tutor, Haley _god damn_ James, around again like a love-sick puppy. Nathan, hanging out with that girl, is just unnatural and of course that just adds on to her frustration. So she does what comes natural, and cheered on by Rachel she heads towards the living room bar to get even more drunk.

The Basketball Banquet held at Nathan's parents house is an expensive ordeal where no expenses seems to have been spared and the bar is no exception. She and Rachel settles at the counter and when the female bartender asks "Soda or juice?" she just shoots off a winning smile.

"Actually, I was gonna ask if you know how to make a screaming orgasm."

She's not surprised when the girl behind the bar laughs and says; "For a pretty girl like you? Sure."

This is what she does best. She might just be seventeen but she's been drinking alcohol for years. And flirting is her biggest talent, no matter if the current bartender happens to be female. When they went to Blue Post, Nathan usually sent her to the bar instead of asking Peyton because Brooke Davis never had to pay for the drinks. Peyton just didn't have that special touch that she shared with Rachel. Maybe it was because of Peyton's constant scowl.

"So what's this thing tonight?" the bartender asks, and she leans her elbow on the counter.

"Ravens basketball."

"Oh, and what position do you play?"

Tim comes up laughing beside her and she glares at him. "Cheerleader," she states proudly. "I'm the Captain."

Tim can go to hell. And he can take Lucas and Nathan with him.

The bar-girl smiles timidly and snickers, "Jocks and cheerleaders, huh? Lots of hormones tonight," before handing Brooke the ready drink. "Don't go around advertising."

She shakes her head, making her dark hair bounce around her face, and in the corner of her eye she sees Rachel smile. "Secret's safe with me," the redhead mumbles and receives a drink of her own. Tim leans towards the counter but he doesn't even have time to finish his sentence.

"I'll have what they're havi-"

"Just walk away, _Dim_!"

Laughing, she and Rachel settle with their drinks to watch the crowd. She's not really in the mood to talk but after Tim has loomed off and she once again sees Peyton sneak by in a door-opening without joining them, she has to ask.

"Do you think that Peyton likes Lucas?"

Rachel empties her red plastic cup and smirks. "Wouldn't that karma be a bitch, huh? I mean since you've been slee—"

She quickly clasps a hand over the redhead's mouth.

"Shh! What the fuck Rach!"

Lately her redheaded friend has gotten a little too comfy with talking about her misdoings with Nathan, probably because they've been spending more and more time without the company of the blonde. With a glare that screams 'control your freaking tongue' she drops the hand and lowers her voice.

"No but seriously… she says she's not into him. I asked her, I even gave her the whole of last weekend to make a move, but she didn't…"

Rachel shrugs.

"I don't know Brooke. I've never really understood that girl and you know it. Frankly I'm not really sure why you want Lucas to begin with. He's way too innocent and broody for you. Not to mention," she pauses to sneer at the boy who stands nervously in the corner of the room next to Jake Jagielsky, "he's a total bore."

He _is_ innocent, Brooke admits, but basically that's exactly what she needs. Someone that can rub off some of that naive virtue on her and make her softer, more stable. Maybe someone that can even love her. Someone who can actually make her love them _back_.

"Whatever…" she mutters.

She doesn't want to think about this stuff now, with a sigh she watches Nathan across the room as he laughs with the stupid tutor girl. When the hell did tutor girl get invited to Raven functions anyways? She empties another cup of Cranberry and Grey Goose and her eyes scan the room for Lucas. Eventually the gorgeous broody blond will be hers.

She'll just have to work a little harder.

---x---

Rachel understands that Brooke wants to venture outside of the box, it's only natural. But does she _really _want to go that route through Lucas Scott? Boys were trouble, boyfriends were worse and monogamous relationships were only a cause for disaster.

Which is why she hasn't seen or heard from Owen in nearly a week. Which is fine by her, because he is _not _her boyfriend. Okay, truth be told he had sent her a text letting her know that he had another game that Friday. A silent peace offering and yet to Rachel it's more like an arrogant way of getting _her _to be the one to apologize without even speaking. If she goes then it's just as bad as saying the words.

But Brooke plans to go, which means Rachel is going because she knows Brooke well enough to know a plan when it's formed. She even has Bevin along for the ride. Which is proof enough that Brooke is up to something because Bevin is even more of a Rachel/Owen supporter than the dimple faced brunette.

"Don't look like you're having too much fun," Jake chuckles as he makes his way over to lean against the bar to her left. "You might give everyone the impression that you're actually _enjoying _yourself," he says and casts her a lighthearted wink.

Rachel grunts in reply then sips from her cup, "Careful, Jake," she warns him with a menacing growl. "I'm bored and getting more drunk by the minute. Pretty soon I'm going to want to ditch this shit hole and you're looking awfully attractive tonight."

Jake chuckles to himself and drops his head, "Oh Rachel, you and Brooke kill me. You know that?"

"Why Mr. Jagielsky," she purrs delightfully and slides a hand up the front of his chest, "if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were suggesting a threesome…"

"Ice it, Gatina," Nathan storms over with a scowl, "I don't think Owen would appreciate you throwing yourself at Jake."

"Excuse me?" her eyes ignite with a flame so bright, Jake has to take a step back.

"You heard me, Rachel," he snaps. "And I don't appreciate you messing around behind his back in _my _house."

By now, Jake has extracted himself as far away from the argument as possible. Spotting Brooke giggling with the rest of her squad he quickly makes his way over to her and takes her by the arm. "I need to talk to you."

"Oh, hey," Brooke's grin is devilish, "I see you've changed your mind about—"

"Rachel needs you," he blurts and instantly kills her buzz. Her head snaps to the right to see the red head engaged in a heated argument with Nathan.

"Shit," she mutters under her breath, "thanks," she nods at Jake before she goes storming past him towards her friend.

"Don't you dare try to stand there and lecture _me_," Rachel scoffs, "look in a damn mirror, Nathan. You're the one fucking around behind Peyton's back and then twice fucking her—_and _your thing on the side with that tutor bitch! So don't you even _attempt _to come at me with—"

"Hey!" Brooke shouts interrupting the end of her sentence. Grabbing her by the arm she drags the redhead out of the house with Nathan following close behind. "Are you fucking crazy, Rachel? What the hell's gotten into you?" she asks once they're in the backyard.

"Nothing," Rachel's jaw tightens. "Everything was perfectly fine until your little boy toy decided to—"

"That is _enough!_" she hisses into her friends face furiously wrenching her forward by her wrist. "You are drunk and you are seriously starting to embarrass yourself. I understand that you're upset because of Owen, but—"

"_Oh_ _please!_" Rachel belts out with a scowl while slapping her hand away, "I'm just sick of watching you parade yourself around for a boy who is so _beneath _you."

"You don't even know him," Brooke shakes her head disappointed. She hates that Rachel wont give Lucas a chance.

"Yeah?" her flushed cheeks color even further, "Well neither do you."

She flinches, stung by her harsh words then backs away. "I wont fight with you," she shakes her head and pulls out her phone.

Rachel's eyes widen in alarm as she watches Brooke dial, "I swear Brooke, if you call him I will make you regret it." Her eyes narrow.

Nathan chooses now to intervene, not liking the amount of attention that has now been brought. Slowly he lowers Brooke hand so that she can't finish her call, "Forget it, I already called him. He's on his way now," he tells her, deliberately avoiding Rachel's hateful gaze.

"You son of a—"

"Brooke!" Peyton's shout is heard from across the room.

Her head snaps up to see the curly blonde stomp her way towards her with a menacing glare in her eyes. _Uh oh_.

"Did you tell Lucas that Nathan and I were getting back together?" she snaps when she's within hearing distance.

Glancing around them, Brooke rolls her eyes in annoyance. "Well aren't you? I mean this is breakup number, what? Eleven thousand and two?"

"You know what, Brooke? Give it up." She scowls.

"Trust me, I'm trying," she mutters in response.

Peyton sees no humor in her words, "You know what I mean."

"I'm just trying to help." She lies, because truthfully she just wants Nathan paired up again so that she can pursue Lucas without his constant watchful eye.

"Help with what?" Peyton scoffs, "Get me out of the way so you can go embarrass yourself in front of Lucas some more?"

Nathan bites back a laugh behind a hand and Rachel sighs completely bored of the entire party.

"That's funny," Brooke blinks with a small, forced laugh, "I didn't realize you were in my way." Her brow arches considerably, "Are you finally fessing up? Or, are you finally denying it?"

Peyton hugs her arms around herself as if realizing she's said too much.

"Whatever," Brooke rolls her eyes and tries to walk away only to be pulled back by Peyton. Staring at her hand on her arm she glares until her hand drops away and then pulls up the most devious smile. "Let's play a game, shall we?"

"Brooke…" Nathan grumbles a warning.

But she's too fired up to listen.

"Listen up, everybody!" she shouts out to her classmates who are scattered around the back of the house. "It's time to play truth or dare," she smiles. "Or maybe just dare, 'cause," she pauses to throw Peyton a fierce look, "nobody really tells the truth anymore."

"B," Rachel sobers up enough to realize that things are about to take a dive in the wrong direction, "she's just trying to make Nathan jealous because of tutor bitch. She doesn't _really _want Lu—"

"Let's see… _Peyton_," Brooke ignores her friend and turns to the other.

"Brooke, come on."

"I dare you to show us how you really feel," she scowls, "kiss Lucas."

Lucas, who stands a few feet away in utter and complete shock, stares at Brooke as if she's just cursed him. Or maybe blessed him, she's not too sure because she's so full of anger in that moment she can't quite see straight.

"Sure, Peyt," Nathan nods at his current ex, "kiss the loser," he chuckles with an arrogant smirk, "give me a free pass to screw whoever I want tonight without having to hear you bitch about it later."

Completely embarrassed, Peyton hesitates to move, but after a curt nod from Brooke she eventually turns around and kisses Lucas. Cheers erupt and Rachel pulls Brooke back a step to mutter something into her ear just as Peyton finishes the kiss.

"I knew you'd see things my way," Nathan winks.

After all, why should he care? He is the one who dumped _her _after all. A first in the history of their long and twisted relationship. She hates him so much in that moment, because kissing Lucas has obviously caused him no pain. Why can't she even inflict even a decimal of the hurt he causes her?

"That was low," Jake shakes his head in disappointment. "Even for you, Brooke," he replies brushing past her to walk back inside the house.

Embarrassed and completely humiliated, Peyton glances around at her classmates wondering what exactly to do next. Lucas turns to Peyton, then back to Brooke. He's never been more clueless in his entire life.

"Brooke," he says her name feeling confused and turns to Peyton again, "what the hell just happened?"

Peyton's tearful eyes are glued to the house, shame fills her veins as she thinks about what her actions have done. Screw Nathan, forget Brooke, forget _everything_. She's just proved herself every bit the immature girl she swore she was not. And the way he had looked at her… Deeply ashamed of herself, she shoves away from everyone and rushes out around the house.

Lucas glances up at Brooke who stares back at him completely emotionless and he drops gaze downward and away from her. She shakes her head, looking completely dissatisfied before she turns and walks away back into the house.

Rejected, Lucas chooses then to chase after Peyton.

---x---

"Seriously Brooke? Could you be anymore pathetic?" Nathan snorts an hour later as he approaches the brunette from behind. "What the hell do you see in that loser?" His hands slide around her waist and rests over her hips.

"You wouldn't understand." She shakes her head as she watches Lucas push his way past his peers on his way out the front door to follow the disappearing Peyton.

She's watched him chase her all over the house. Every time he gets close, Peyton reels him in and then throws him back. It's sickening, almost.

From where they stand in an empty back corner of the house, Nathan slips his fingers over her stomach and up her slinky halter dress. "Actually B, I think I understand even more than you do." He chuckles. "Why do you think I tried to hook up with Haley?"

"Stop," she hisses and grabs his hands before they can cup her breasts.

Hot air tickles her ear before the feel of his teeth lightly nipping at her lobe. "You don't mean that."

"Yes I do." She shivers in his hands and closes her eyes. "I so fucking hate you." She jerks away from him and turns to glare into his icy blue eyes. "You make me sick," she replies through gritted teeth.

He exhales through his nose and resists the urge to shove her up against the wall. Instead he continues to gape into her eyes. No words, just burning, lingering stares. She's so damn hot when she's pissed at him.

"Upstairs." He whispers and jerks her forward by the fabric of her red dress. "Ten minutes. I'll wrap things up down here and meet you inside my room." He licks his lips and watches in the corner of his eyes as their shadows dance against the wall beside them.

"You're drunk," she mutters and turns her face to avoid his lips.

He crashes his mouth against the nape of her neck and licks her skin like an animal bathing its counterpart. He swears that she tastes like candy, the sweetest sin. "So what? It's not like _you're_ sober," he scoffs. "Now you have something to blame when you wake up tomorrow morning naked in my bed." He blows his breath over his saliva marks over her neck and grins when she quivers in his hands.

"Fuck you" she scowls.

Nathan sighs and pulls away from her. "Seriously B? Are we really gonna do this again? Either way this conversation goes it always ends the same. You're like a broken record."

"Are you comparing me to _Peyton?_" she asks incredulously.

"Fuck no," he grimaces, "let me rephrase myself. She was a broken record, you're just on repeat." He leans in to kiss her and is met with her chin. He groans and rolls his eyes. "What now?"

"I want Lucas." Brooke says but doesn't sound not very convincing.

"You want the _idea _of Lucas," he explains and cradles the back of her head with his hand. "Plus, you do realize that he wants Peyton, right?"

She closes her eyes and brushes her lips against his wrist almost absentmindedly, "Ten minutes," she mutters and looks up at him.

He grins. She scowls and shoves him against the wall as she storms off towards the stairs.

---x---

_**November 18**__**th**_

She wakes up in the familiar room of Peyton Sawyer and for a second she doesn't even remember how she got there. Her mouth is hot, her tongue is dry and she feels like the room is still spinning just as fast as it was the night before.

With a hangover from hell she mutters, "So what am I doing here?" and moans just as Peyton lets out a sigh.

Sometimes Peyton wonders just what the hell goes on inside Brooke's head. Then she wonders if she even really cares anymore. It seems that with every new fight their vindictive comebacks get worse and worse. However, the next day, all is always forgiven. Perhaps that's the reason they refuse to let go. A vicious cycle that they just can't break.

"Brooke, that's two weekends in a row you don't remember what happened the night before," she replies exhausted.

"Oh, please tell me that I didn't make a fool out of myself in front of Lucas?" She buries her face back into the pillow, but Peyton just snorts.

"Nope, that would be me." Her voice is dry and her eyes are downcast.

"What? Wait… you two were totally hot for each other." Brooke replies when small fragments of the day before start to piece back together. She just can't seem to wrap her head around some of it. Hadn't her plan been to end up next to _Lucas _the next morning?

A glance to her left and she can at least say she's in bed with a tall blonde. She'd laugh but suddenly more pieces from last night come back to her. She remembers fighting with Rachel, flirting with Lucas… and Jake and then—oh wait, she remembers now. Lucas had run off after Peyton and she herself had gone upstairs with… God…

If she wasn't already pale, she would be now. When was she going to stop sneaking around with Nathan? Peyton doesn't seem to notice her paleness though. Instead she sighs and zaps to another channel on the TV.

"_Were_ is the key-word here. We _were_ hot for each other until about halfway through ripping each other's clothes off, I bailed." Peyton heaves a great big sigh.

"Because?" She waits for a response.

"Because he got all serious. He was talking about this intense commitment or I don't know." Peyton waves a flippant hand to show she could care less. It's an act Brooke doesn't buy but she allows her golden partner to think that she has.

"Peyton," Brooke mumbles as she stares forward at the television. From the corner of her eye she can see the blonde turn her head and yet she remains forward without turning to meet her gaze.

"Yeah?"

She takes a deep breath, "Why are we like this?"

"I don't know," Peyton shrugs and looks back at the TV without really seeing what's on the screen. "Why are you such a skank?"

"Why do you always do that?" Brooke huffs in annoyance, "Do you really have to insult me? I know its your default reaction to attack when you feel threatened but I am your best friend, Peyton. Why do you want me to hate you?"

"I don't," Peyton mumbles. "It's just… you're not you anymore."

"Yeah? Well neither are you, so I guess we're even." Brooke snaps back spitefully.

"Brooke, do we have to do this? I mean seriously, it doesn't really matter because no matter what I say you're going to forgive me." She shrugs, because its just a fact.

A fact that Brooke hates to admit to and also, a fact that makes her think of something she's been wondering for quite some time now.

"Why do you keep going back to Nathan?" she mumbles and starts to pick at the loose threads on the blanket in her lap.

Her friend's brow furrows in confusion, it's been too long since she's heard such a genuine tone come from the brunette's lips. It also makes her curious to know why she suddenly cares.

"Force of habit, I guess," Peyton shrugs.

Brooke can relate. But this isn't the answer she'd hoped for. She wants a bonafide good reason as to why it is so easy to keep going back to Nathan Scott despite all his flaws. Because she thinks that if she knows Peyton's answer, then maybe it can help her find out her own.

Now she turns to face the other girl, "And Lucas?"

"What about him?" a grimace mares her sharp features.

"Come on! He was totally following you around like lovesick puppy, Peyton! You can't tell me you didn't notice," her voice rises.

Peyton scowls, "Yes, I noticed and it was fucking annoying as hell. I mean what kind of guy makes it so _obvious?_ Play a little hard to get, will you?"

"Is he a good kisser?" she asks eagerly.

The blondes shrug is meant to be nonchalant but the slight tug on the corner of her mouth gives it away. "He's okay," she lies.

Brooke holds back a smirk, "Better than Nathan?"

She hesitates then shakes her head with a laugh, "No one's better than Nathan."

"You're beyond pathetic," Brooke snorts and they both giggle.

"Why did you ask me about Nathan?" she asks not really caring for an answer.

"Never mind," Brooke shakes her head.

"So, you wanna hang out today?" Peyton shrugs it off and offers in a small voice.

"Yeah, sure."

"I mean," she adds, "unless you're busy with your _other _best friend."

Brooke doesn't even grace that comment with an answer. Instead she rolls her eyes and ignores it altogether. "There's a party at Duke tonight…"

"Sounds good," Peyton nods.

"Cool," Brooke nods. "We can go shopping for something to wear later," she replies simply and pulls the hair back from her face.

"Yeah, and maybe I can find a guy who understands the meaning of a one night stand," she snorts, "and I have to do it before Nathan comes crawling back. Because I know he slept with someone last night, he's completely unable to allow anyone to get one up on him. And since I pretty much gave him permission to screw whoever by kissing Lucas…" she shrugs.

"So what," Brooke smirks, "you have to _even the score_?"

"Exactly," she laughs, "but don't make it sound so… _bad_. It's just sex," she rolls her eyes nonchalant, "you of all people should get that."

"Easy on the skanky innuendo!" Brooke elbows her friend.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, force of habit. You're so easy—and not just literally!" she teases again and gets shoved one more time. "Alright, chill. Take your Aspirin so you can shake that hangover and we can go shopping."

Brooke rolls her eyes and swallows the meds Peyton's set on the nightstand with the bottle of water. "Can we watch cheesy reality shows while I wait for the marching band to stop parading on my head?"

"I suppose," she changes the channel to VH1 to watch _Real Chance of Love_.

"Hey Peyt?"

"Yeah?" her gaze switches to look at the brunette.

"Do you really think Nate will come crawling back?" she asks not really knowing why.

"Yep," Peyton's eyes turn back to the TV.

Brooke turns and snuggles back into the pillows behind her with a small smirk. Peyton had turned Lucas down. It was now just a matter of days before Nathan and Peyton will be back together and everything will go back to normal.

Lucas is open game again—and Brooke Davis is ready to play.

---x---

_**November 19**__**th**_

Rachel doesn't even know why she agreed to go to the stupid football game in the first place. She's still pissed off at Owen and the fact that he had seen her in the stands was just going to make him think that they were good again.

And they're _not_.

Actually they're probably less 'good' than they were 90 minutes ago, before she stepped out on the football field, because seeing all the stupid little twits that flocked around him just reminded her of how he had acted last night. On top of that, Duke's cheer squad seemed to have gotten a few additions, more specifically two blonde bitches that just wouldn't leave Owen alone.

Earlier today she had been pissed. It seemed as if ever since flipping out over the idea of being Owens 'girlfriend' he's done everything in his power to make her jealous. What's more disturbing is that it's _working._

Last nights fight had been worse than usual. However, Brooke had pulled the whole manipulation act on her. Argued that it was way too seldom that Duke's Blue Devils played at home, and that the changes to the team should be reason enough. According to Brooke, Tyler Gage – offensive lineback for the Blue Devils, and newly transferred from UNC, was straight up eye-candy.

Thinking that it could be good for Brooke to stop obsessing about the new loser-guy Lucas, she had agreed, which she now greatly regrets. Because now she's not just pissed, now she's _furious_. Tonight's game was just one time too many were she had to watch Owen chat up some college hottie while she stood on the side and watched and whatever lame excuses he was going to conjure up later, she's fed up with it. _Fed up_.

Although when she hisses and spits about his behavior, neither Brooke nor Bevin seem to take her seriously. Probably because the fighting between herself and Owen has turned into a normal routine. But tonight is different. She's not going to forgive him as soon as he juts his bottom lip out and mutters 'sorry'. She's not going to…

"Ty is so _gorgeous_…" Bevin sighs and hooks her arm with Brooke's, effectively breaking her line of thought. "I can't believe he's just a freshman."

Brooke nods in agreement. But instead of the counteract of naming some other good looking player, she smirks.

"Yeah and about that…" the dimpled traitor says and taps a finger to her chin. "Owen looked pretty hot in that game, don't you think so Bev?"

"Totally. What did you think, Rachel?"

Bevin smiles genuinely and it's obvious that she has no clue what Brooke is doing. God, sometimes the girl is just too damn gullible.

"I think both of you are idiots" she snaps and speeds up her step.

The giggle that slips from Brooke can't be called anything other than evil so she snorts back and flicks her red hair out of her face with a shake of her head. Bevin looks more confused than ever and when she rapidly walks towards the car, Bevin turns to Brooke.

"I don't understand, B. Doesn't Rachel think Owen is hot? It's kind of stupid to date him if she doesn't think so… I mean, I think he's hot but I don't wanna date him 'cause he's obviously taken…" Rachel can almost hear Brooke roll her eyes and make the 'duh!' expression. "…but if he wasn't, then I'd totally go for Owen. Seriously, his abs are like _dreamy_…"

She's just about to turn back and bitch Bevin off, because what the hell would Bevin know about Owens abs? But Brooke's voice cuts her off.

"Shut up Bevin."

Good. End of discussion.

At least she thinks so until she's strapping on her seatbelt on and Brooke climbs in on the passenger side. The innocent flutter of her friend's eyelashes clearly tells her that B Davis is up so something and she lets out an irritated sigh.

"_What_, Brooke?!"

Brooke blinks and puts a hand on her heart as if feeling hurt by the ice in her voice. "Did I _say_ anything?" her brunette friend asks and straps on her own seatbelt. "Did I Bev?" Brooke turns to the back and Bevin mumbles out a confused "No…"

"Nope, didn't think so." The lip sticks out in the infamous Davis pout.

It's clearly an act but annoyingly enough it still makes Rachel laugh.

"God, B… you really should pursue a career as an actress. And I never want this repeated, but I get why the guys fall for that face of yours."

Brooke's features lights up again. "Cute, huh?" the dimpled girl states and pulls down the sunshield to watch her reflection in the mirror.

"Yes."

Rachel turns the ignition and pulls the shift into drive. And in the corner of her eye she sees Brooke's smile stretch into a vicious leer.

"Well talking about cute…" she drawls and applies some lipgloss. "I think Owen looked pretty hot in tonight's game…" She shakes the dark curls out of her face and giggles. "Or what do you think, _Rachel_?"

Rachel just lets her head fall back against the headrest and groans loudly.

"I think I _hate_ you."

Bevin starts to say something from the backseat but one look in the rearview mirror shuts the blonde up permanently. And she's just about to blast the radio in order to not have to listen to all this 'girl-talk' that is sure to follow, but her cell phone cuts her off.

Owen.

Not answering would be childish and way beneath her. The guy knows her well enough to know that she's pissed at him anyway. So she flips the phone open and just when she makes a left up on the highway, she snaps "_What_, you chauvinistic, cheating asshole? What can you possibly have to say to me that I would want to hear?"

Brooke looks away from her own reflection in the mirror and watches Rachel. Her redheaded friend's expression is cold and she can vaguely hear Owens voice on the other end. She snaps out worlds like 'over-reacting', 'misunderstanding' and 'childish' and Brooke groans silently to herself. When was the guy _ever _going to learn?

"Rachel…" she whispers carefully, "Stay calm, okay?" but of course Rachel doesn't. Instead the scarlet firecracker yells out a stream of colorful words that would make a drunken truck-driver blush before slapping the phone shut and looking like she wants to hurl the device out the window.

"I hate him! I fucking _hate_ him!"

There's no question that this will turn into the regular Rachel/Owen warfare and Brooke sighs and looks out on the dark road ahead.

"Can't you two just stop fighting it?" she mumbles, even though she knows that she shouldn't. The fun and games are over and the comment is surely going to piss off Rachel for real. Honestly though, she _doesn't care_. Not even when Rachel snaps out a harsh "Fuck you, Brooke! This is not your business!"

She's tired of the constant bitching but it's not just that. Lately she keeps wondering if maybe she's wrong in believing that love should be more than this. It makes her feel sad to think that Rachel's been right all along.

Just look at Rachel and Owen, or at Nathan and Peyton.

She knows how alike Rachel and herself are and Nathan is probably just like Owen if not even worse. He would never want anything serious, and on top of that, she had been stupid to even consider that thought because she would never do that to Peyton.

"Owen did nothing but talk to that girl last night, Raye," she says softly, not at all bothered by the curses that Rachel still throws her way. "We never saw him do anything. They just talked."

This time Rachel doesn't even answer and seconds later loud music fills the car. So she leans back into the seat again and brings out her own cell phone. Texts a '_Come over later 2nite. Shell b at my house'_ to Owen because she hates when they fight. it might be silly, but it reminds her too much of her own parents.

Seconds later she gets the response. _'Fuck it. Im not sayin sorry for sumthin I didnt do. Ill b wit Prep.'_

Whatever. Dogs should stick with dogs, she thinks, but then Bevin's voice cuts off her thoughts.

"Look. There's Lucas."

She looks out the window just in time to see Lucas jogging down towards the River Park. He looks so relaxed in his sweats, so careless… so _hot_.

Turning her head she watches him disappear in the distance.

It was going to be so refreshing when she finally reeled him in. Because right now, all she wants is to get out of this damn dog-pound.

---x---

Big ass thank you's to everyone that reviewed but this time especially to;

**Lizzy,** who keeps reading and reviewing although she's out camping with the family in the wilderness. **Stefy**, who always has time to listen to the never-ending twists and turns of this story. And **Ellis**, our only boy, who always reads between the lines and gives great insight.

Oh and by the way;

Audra, you're alert-thingy is not messed up. ;)

Chey, sorry for driving you crazy hun 3

Firenza, Peyton's issues will be addressed

Kristin, be patient – Blue post, baby.


	11. Serve Your Soul

Authors note: A slightly shorter chapter this week. The lyrics are from a Ben Harper song and the poem is of course by EE Cummings. Enjoy.

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

_I look into the mirror__  
And I see someone there I used to know__  
They all want you to serve them__  
But the only one you got to serve  
Is your soul_

---x---

**Chapter 10: **_Serve Your Soul_

**Junior Year**

_**November 23**__**rd**__** 2006**_

She's finally making real progress with Lucas. Thanks to Peyton's stupidity when she and Rachel had brought her along to the Duke party. God was that a mess…

To think Brooke had actually intended to use the Duke party to try and recreate the friendship they once all shared together. Was it really so damn hard for Rachel to keep herself from insulting Peyton every chance she got? Brooke was used to Rachel's constant digs and so they blew past her like a breeze. In one ear and out the other.

But Peyton had made a stupid decision to try and show Rachel up. She found some loser guy in his dorm and swallowed two hits of E. This wouldn't have been much of a problem if Peyton hadn't of freaked out because it was her first time. Brooke had never done the drug before—much to everyone's surprise—and so when Peyton had begun to freak, it made Brooke freak.

Rachel had tried again and again to convince them that Peyton was going to be fine. _"Just keep her hydrated. She'll be fine," _were Rachel's nonchalant orders. But as the night dragged on Peyton's condition seemed to worsen. By then Rachel had long since ditched them in favor of make-up sex with Owen.

Which gave Brooke no choice but to call Lucas. His name hadn't been the first to pop into her head. Nathan had come to mind first but Brooke didn't want to have to deal with him afterwards. Lately, Nate acted weird around her and Lucas had been the only viable choice. Honestly, Brooke had been way too freaked out to think of the benefits of calling Lucas that night.

Which were of course, showing Lucas who Peyton really was and getting to spend some time with him one-on-one. It was amazing and if Peyton hadn't decided to wake up in the middle of one of their conversations to vomit all over her lap, it would have been magical. She can't say she wasn't somewhat tickled when in Peyton's intoxicated state she cursed Lucas out for being 'pathetically obsessed with her.'

After that it only took a couple soothing words from Brooke to sway him her way. Lucas had finally swallowed the hook, line and sinker. Or maybe not the sinker but she's going to change that. Truthfully, she feels kind of sorry for him. It can't be easy to see the true colors of someone you had set so high up in your mind.

Brooke doesn't want to mislead Lucas, but she also doesn't want to scare him away. She can't help the attraction she feels towards him. Or the underlying sense of hope she feels whenever he looks at her. It's as if he actually _believes _she can be a good person. And that's all she's ever wished for.

To be a better person. She just wishes it wasn't so damn hard to break such old and redundant habits.

So today she sits with him in the school library and listens as he reads aloud. They've partnered up on this recent EE Cummings project—Luke's idea—and now here he is, reading to her in a library-soft tone '_anyone lived in a pretty how town_.'

His voice is enthralling and she tilts her head and concentrates.

Her eyes won't leave his face. Lucas blushes slightly, because when she stares at him like that he doesn't know if it's because she's fascinated by what it is he's reading—or if he has something on his face and she's trying to figure out a nice way to tell him.

Ever since two nights ago in Peyton's room waiting for her to wake up, Lucas can't get Brooke out of his mind. She's unlike anything he'd ever imagined her to be.

"_Women and men (both little and small)__  
cared for anyone not at all__  
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same  
sun moon stars rain_,"

He continues on almost half way through without pause but then for a second Lucas looks up from the page to see a set of hazel eyes. Chin in hand, attention on him, Brooke blinks once and nods her head for him to keep reading.

He does.

"_children guessed(but only a few__  
and down they forgot as up they grew  
__autumn winter spring summer)  
that none loved him more by more_

_when by now and tree by leaf  
she laughed his joy she cried his grief  
bird by snow and stir by still  
anyone's any was all to her_,"

His eyes fly through the words, soaking up what he thinks wisdom and hoping to shed light on the pretty girl beside him. When he gets towards the end she brushes a lock of hair behind her ear and slants her face to the table. He peaks at her in the corner of his eye and swears she looks sad.

"_all by all and deep by deep  
and more by more they dream their sleep_,"

His voice is soothing, she closes her eyes. His words cover her like a warm blanket, soft and delicate. When he shifts in his seat she looks over at him and sees that his brow is creased, his eyes trained to the book in his hands. His lips move to form words and she listens with baited breath.

How can reading a simple poem for class change her perception so easily? Brooke isn't book-smart, she barely gets by as it is. She doesn't sit in her room or do her own homework. She has one of the girls on the squad do such petty things, and she flirts with the geeks to get copies of their notes.

But for some odd reason, she hangs onto Luke's every word as he reads on. It's not his poem, but perhaps it's because he's reading it that she pays such close attention. It's hidden meaning makes her want to weep, because it feels so close to home and he has no idea that as he keeps reading her eyes well further.

"_Women and men (both dong and ding)__  
summer autumn winter spring  
__reaped their sowing and went their came  
sun moon stars rain_"

He finishes.

"Wow," he sighs, replaces the bookmark and closes the book. "So what did you think?" Lucas turns his sights to the cheer captain who sits kitty-corner to him at the table.

"_Laughed their cryings and did their dance_," she whispers a line from the poem, "_They said their nevers and slept their dreams_." Her raspy tone sounds more hoarse than usual. Lucas blinks down at her curiously.

"Yeah?" He urges her to speak again.

"They are hopeless," she adds her opinion, "opposites of anyone and no-one." She shakes her head and looks up into his eyes, "They just pretend."

_Like me_. She wants to say, but doesn't.

He nods his head at her interpretation and waits to see what she'll say next. He's riveted by her blank stare as she gets lost in deep thought. She looks confused, but sad and also quizzical all at once.

Then she takes a deep breath and looks into his eyes again, "Do you think I'm shallow?"

He blinks in surprise, "What?"

"That night at Tim's party, the one where Peyton's comic strip was read out loud and you said it was shallow?" she calls him on his earlier statement.

It's so far back in his memory he has to pause and try to remember. "Yeah," he nods thinking back to last year when they were sophomores, "I remember that. I said the _comic_ was shallow, but I never said—"

"Well that was me," she tells him, "in the comic. _Sookie, _or_ Socky _or whatever. The girl screwing the guy with the hat was me." Brooke explains and Lucas leans back in his seat confused. "So I ask you again, do you think I'm shallow?"

"I didn't know you well enough back then to make such an assumption, Brooke," he starts, "and I'm still just starting to see bits and pieces of who you really are." His lips form a small smile. "So to answer your question," he leans closer to her on the table, "_no_, I do not think you're shallow, Brooke Davis. But I do think your _friends _are shallow," he admits, "but not you."

"Would you still want to hang out with me if you thought I was like them?" She asks sounding as close to vulnerable as he's ever seen her.

"Brooke, I don't think—"

"_Women and men (both little and small) cared for anyone not at all," s_he recites a direct quote from the poem. She wants to tell him the truth of who her friends are, because it's who she is too.

But she can't do it openly, not to his face. Not when she's so close to making him hers. She can't scare him away now, but she can't just pull him into her world without some kind of warning, either. Whether it be insinuated or given to him straight. She can't just blurt out that her friends and family live, breathe and sleep in such a _shallow_ atmosphere.

They—_she—_lives in a world where it's about what you are, and who you know.

Not _who _you are, not _what _you know.

Lucas shakes his head again, "I don't understand—"

"_They sowed their isn't they reaped their same,_" she cuts him off, silently begging him to comprehend her hidden meaning, "_sun moon stars rain."_

She thinks about how Dan pushes Nathan in almost all the same ways her own mother pushes her. Because Dan and Victoria both feel as if they've lost out on something they deserved, something they were meant for. So they complain about what isn't and try to force their children to be and do what they failed. But all in all, they continue to be that dead lingering voice in the back of their own heads.

_They reap their same._

But Lucas doesn't get this, and she can't expect him to. He's never known his father and he definitely doesn't know Victoria. So he scratches behind his ear and squints down at her clueless.

"I thought you were smart," she almost snaps at him unfairly.

"_He sang his didn't he danced his did_," Lucas replies. Coming back at her with his own hidden meaning. Attempting to tell her that he's lived his life for so long wondering what could have been. But all he knows is what he's done.

She stares at him, he watches her closely. He doesn't get it. And he's still wrapped up in his delusions of what he thinks is real. He doesn't know her kind, he's still too new. She bets he's still just a little bit into Peyton as well. She sighs and squints her eyes curiously, wondering if she should just go for it or not.

She doesn't want to be just another nobody living in a '_pretty little how town_.' So Brooke bites her bottom lip and takes a chance.

"Hey Luke," she speaks low with her eyes watching him through her long lashes.

"Yes, Brooke?" He smiles back at her.

"You wanna get out of here?" She asks and shoves her things into her bag.

Lucas nods his head, "Yeah, okay."

"Good," she grins, "cuz I'm _starving_," she winks and stands up to walk to the exit.

He laughs and holds the door open for her to pass through. She's _definitely _not who he thought she was.

Because she's so much more.

---x---

Haley's not really paying attention to the surroundings, she's just putting one foot in front of the other, determined to get home from the Tutor Center in time to watch Grey's Anatomy. And maybe that's why she just trots along past Wendy's Diner and doesn't realize that something is off before the window is already behind her.

But then she stops. Wrinkles her forehead in confusion and back-tracks a couple of steps just to make sure that she didn't just see what she thinks that she saw. If that even makes sense…

And staying in the shadow, she peeks in through the glass while suppressing the urge to rub her eyes in disbelief. Inside the diner she sees Lucas Scott, her best friend of the last ten years, in what seems like deep conversation with Brooke Davis, reigning Queen Bitch from hell.

Some papers are spread out on the table between Lucas and the brunette and Haley realizes that this 'meeting' is probably due to a school assignment. She remembers more than clearly when Mrs. Collins paired her with Jonathon Vegas for the Home-Ec project last month and suddenly she feels bad for her friend. Working with someone as shallow as Brooke must be awful.

It's just one problem with her reasoning. Lucas doesn't look all that unhappy about the situation. Wide-eyed, she watches as the brunette cheer-captain throws her head back in laughter but she's even more surprised when the action is met by a genuine smile from Lucas.

She just can't wrap her head around it. Why was he hanging out with Brooke? Didn't he remember what the horrid girl had done to Faith last year?

She snorts to herself in an annoyed fashion and pulls her poncho around her a little tighter. If he doesn't, then mark her words; she's going to _make_ him remember on next possible occasion. She had after all lived through the car ride back from the Pinkerton game with Brooke and her friends because she didn't have any choice, but Lucas is actually willingly associating with the enemy.

When Lucas seems to fall into the laughter as well, then Haley feels like she's seen enough. Brooke had already been evil in freshman year and she bets that during the past year and a half, that trait has probably just been perfected. Especially since the Gatina redhead transferred in last year. The two girls in combination pretty much gave name to the word 'trouble' and she would hate to see Lucas get caught in their web.

It's more than enough that he can't seem let go of his pathetic crush on Peyton Sawyer.

She sighs and finally turns away from the window, returning to her walk home. It bothers her that so much seems to be changing. Faith would be _so_ disappointed if she saw this. Because since their friend moved down to River City, the old gang seemed to have drifted apart.

She's hardly seen Lucas the last two weeks. Practice with the Ravens takes up all his time, and obviously so have _other things_ that he's failed to mention. Mouth is locked in the sound-room most days and she herself is tutoring Nathan Scott, her best friend's tormentor.

Fergie, Skills and Junk still hung around down at the Rivercourt but it's not the same.

It takes her five minutes to get to her house and as she kicks off her shoes in the hallway and yells, "Mom, I'm home!" she makes a mental note to remind Lucas about that time when Brooke's idol, Morgan Finley, turned her wrath on him and he ended up with a broken nose.

If nothing else, that little incident has to make him remember that Brooke has the same title now, in every sense of the way. Rich, popular, manipulative and powerful…

…and of course; a complete bitch.

---x---

Nathan's sitting in the shadows on Brooke's porch when Lucas' old truck parks in the street. For a minute nothing happens and his stomach twists while he pictures them making out inside the vehicle. But then the door opens and Brooke comes out. He hears her raspy voice say, "Thanks Luke…" and "See you tomorrow" before the door slams shut and the truck disappears down the road.

Slowly he stands up and leans against one of the porch's pillars.

"Why'd you call me if you weren't home?" he mutters when she comes skipping up the driveway. "You said to come over. What games are you playing Davis?"

She smirks and walks up close.

"No games." Her voice turns smooth like honey. "I'm here now aren't I? You wanna come inside?"

He's annoyed for leaving Tim and Vegas and still having to wait for her, but the glimmer in her eyes promises too many good things to decline the offer. So when she gets the lock open on the front door, he just follows her inside, hand already sliding down her side.

She doesn't push him away which means she's heard that he's still not back with Peyton, and he starts to relax when she pulls him with her through the hallway. Maybe there's an explanation for her driving around with Lucas? Maybe she's done flirting with the bastard and she's gotten her focus back?

God, he _really_ hopes so.

"So you're hanging out with the loser outside school now?" he asks to test the waters a few minutes later when she sits on top of the kitchen counter and tries to feed him ice cream from a Ben & Jerry's container. She sticks her tongue out as response.

She's smiling but she seems strangely distracted, and then she mumbles; "He's not a loser, Nate. He's… _nice,_" shrugging with a far off look in her eyes.

_Nice._ What a joke.

She licks the remains of chocolate ice cream off of the spoon and digs into the container again. He licks his lips and rubs the skin on her thigh with the pad of his thumb. She looks different tonight. Less mischievous. Deeper in thought. As if something is on her mind.

"I don't care if he's the God damn Easter bunny," he presses on regardless of the little voice in his head that's trying to tell him something's off. "He's an idiot, Brooke. Leave it alone. Better yet, leave _him_ alone."

The mysterious look on her face disappears and her hazel eyes spark. She smirks and gives him the usual teasing for being jealous, but when he goes back to rubbing her thigh and leans in to capture her lips with his, he can see her eyes flicking towards her duffel bag on the floor. He gets the kiss that he craves but then her gaze strays again. The third time it happens he shoves the spoon that she steers towards his mouth away and pulls the bag towards him, curious to see what it is that draws her attention to it.

"Hey!" she snaps when he starts to open it but he just laughs and holds her at a safe distance with one hand, while roaming around in her school bag with the other.

"Jeez, babe…" he chuckles. "Why do you carry all this shit around?"

She tries to work herself free of his hold but he's a hell of a lot stronger than her and while she starts laughing too, he begins to empty her bag onto the table.

"Cell phone… iPod… hairspray… His hand closes around an unrecognizable slender metal object, "what the hell is this? A _vibrator_?" He smirks with his eyebrow raised. "Brooke, you could have just _called_ me if you needed to get off."

Her giggle turns into a full blown laugh.

"It's a flat-iron, stupid!" she gets out and he shakes his head, pretending not to believe her. "And don't flatter yourself."

Pretending not to hear her, he keeps going. "Lotion, water bottle… girl-magazine…"

She tries to form a pout but he tickles her and she fails. It feels good to hear her laugh. "Cheer-stuff?" he asks and pulls out a pair of tiny shorts. "I'd love to see your ass in these…"

Then he grabs her notebook and when flipping it open, she suddenly stops laughing.

"Seriously, Nate" she says with a sudden edge to her tone. "Stop looking through my stuff. Let's go upstairs."

"Why? Is it your _diary_?" His eyes twinkle with trouble, "Hmm…"

She struggles to grab it away from him but her reaction only makes him even more curious. He takes the notebook and opens it before reading a couple of sentences out loud from her notes. "_They sowed their isn't, they reaped their same, sun moon stars rain…_" Laughing and confused, he looks at her. "What is this shit? A poem? Did you write a _poem_, B?"

He lets go of her hands to look more closely at the text and she snorts, "No I didn't. It's for English class!"

"Whatever you say babe…" he shakes his head and looks down at the multiple uses of improper grammar. Completely missing the point.

It's obvious that he finds it ridiculous and Brooke spits out a sharp, "_Fuck_ you, Nathan." She hates that he knows her so well. That he knows that she never studies and that the notebook seems out of place with the rest of her stuff.

He doesn't seem to catch that she means business because his smirks widens and he replies with a husky; "I'd be _glad_ to fuck you," and tries to move in and kiss her, but with newfound strength, she pushes him away.

"Cut it out, Nate. You don't understand." She reaches for her book but he holds it up too high for her to gab it.

"_Laughed their cryings and did their _dance_?_" he keeps reading and chuckles. "This is crap, you know that right? Did the loser write this for you? This shit doesn't even make any _sense_, and yet you're completely into it, aren't you?" he looks over at her in amazement.

Suddenly she feels like the scenario from this afternoon is reversed. Lucas understands the poem but he can't see how well she relates to it because he doesn't understand her and her world. Nathan knows _her_. But to him the shallow world is so natural that he can't see it either, most of all, she assumes, because his cocky ass never read a poem before in his entire life.

"It's E.E Cummings, short-bus," she mutters and jumps off the kitchen island. In the corner of her eye she sees Nathan make a face and she rolls her eyes.

"Oh yeah," he pretends to get her and then turns his thumb upside down and blows a raspberry with his tongue, "E.E…_who_?" he scoffs.

"Nothing," she rubs a hand through her hair.

With a deep sigh she grabs the last thing out of her almost empty bag. The Steinbeck paperback from Lucas, 'The Winter of Our Discontent'. And with the book in her hand, she heads for the stairs to the upper floor.

"Where're you going?" Nathan calls after her, sounding confused, and she shrugs. When she called him earlier, she had actually looked forward to be with him. The hours spent with Lucas had made her miss Nathan's touch and she figured that they could hang out without having sex for once. Maybe talk or just _be_.

"I'm going upstairs" she mumbles, and for kicks she asks, "You wanna come and read to me?"

She's grasping for straws and she doesn't even know why. They're crossing so many boundaries by her trying to be civil and act like… like what? A _couple?_ What the hell is wrong with her?

Nathan laughs at the bottom of the stairs and taunts, "_Read_? Come _on,_ Brooke. You can't be serious…"

Apparently not.

"Guess not," she snorts and waves him off with a flick of her wrist. "Goodnight Nate, close the door on your way out."

She doesn't have to turn and look at him to know that he staring at her without understanding. Or that he looks pissed. Nathan hates to be dismissed and he's not the type of guy that follows her when she leaves him standing. That's why she's not surprised when she hears the front door slam shut seconds later and the sound of his car starting shortly after that.

But just because she's not surprised doesn't mean she isn't disappointed.

_Women and men (both little and small)  
cared for anyone not at all_

Felling tired she sits down on the bed and opens the worn paperback classic.

_They sowed their isn't they reaped their same  
sun moon stars rain_.

---x—

When Rachel comes running into the bedroom at a quarter past four in the morning and starts to throw her stuff around like a mad person, Brooke thinks that the house is at least on fire. And when she sees the horrified look on her friend's face, she fears that whatever has happened is even something worse.

She shoots out of bed, scared that maybe Rachel is injured somehow, and ducks when Rachel's shoe comes flying through the air, inches from her face.

"Hey!" she croaks out, still not even fully awake. "What's happened Rach? What's going on?"

Rachel shoots around and slams her hand on the light switch, effectively blinding Brooke as the light floods the room.

"He's gone mental, _that's_ what's happened!" the redhead barks. "He's… he just…" She stomps off into the adjoining bathroom and finishes the sentence only with a furious growl.

Brooke exhales. Rachel isn't injured. She's not been robbed or raped and the house seemingly still has four walls. It does however seem like good ol' Owen is in the doghouse again. And big time too.

"What did he do?" she asks and covers a yawn behind her hand. It's been less than a week since the last big fallout and she shouldn't be surprised. Rachel has had fits like this since the beginning when she started hooking up with Owen, but the last couple of weeks it seems to be getting worse. And when Rachel doesn't answer instantly, she worries that Owen has been stupid enough to _actually_ cheat this time.

For a second she holds her breath, and then Rachel snaps:

"He said _'I love you'_!" An intake off breath and her friend makes a face. "Can you _believe_ that? I mean, what the hell, right?"

She stands dumbstruck and watches the redhead turn the water on to wash off her makeup. A couple of seconds passes as she melts the information. This could be bad. Really bad. If Owen had said the three words to some skank while drunk, then it would be a serious trust-breaker. Probably worse than if he fucked the slut.

"To who?" she asks carefully, taking a step closer to her friend, and Rachel's face becomes a masque of confusion.

"What?"

"Who was _the_ _girl_?"

She can see why Rachel is somewhat slow. This must all feel awful. Stupid fucking boys and their inability to stay faithful. She's always believed in Owen. She had never thought that he would actually…

"To me, of course!" Rachel interrupts. "Who the hell do you _think_ he said it to? Mother Theresa?!"

Yup, that decides it. She's officially _not_ following. Sighing, she slides down the bathroom wall and sits on the floor. Rachel stomps over to the open window and before she's even gotten her mind wrapped around the weirdness of her friend's words, Rachel has pulled out a joint and lit it.

She groans and rubs her eyes. If she can't follow Rachel's logic while the girl's sober, then she can't even imagine how to do it when she's high.

"Uhm... So what did you say?" she tries and prays to God that it's the right question.

Rachel lets out a mouthful of thin smoke and coughs.

"_Say_?" she replies incredulous. "What the hell was I supposed to say, huh?" Another drag of the joint and then Rachel passes the joint to her. And even though it's four o'clock in the morning and she hasn't gotten high in over a year, she takes it. It just feels like the most logical thing to do.

The smoke is bitter and sweet at the same time and she sucks it deep into her lungs and holds it there. Thinks hard before letting it out. Then she sucks in another mouthful and passes it back.

"I guess it shocked you…" she mumbles and Rachel nods.

"You can say that again."

She seems calmer and Brooke smiles sheepishly at her, already beginning to feel that sensation of being wrapped in a thick layer of cotton. It's kind of nice, but a little annoying when she's trying to focus.

Two drags and she's already feeling it? God, she's turned into a newbie…

"Well, did you say it back?" she asks, squinting in an effort to clear her head, and Rachel laughs dryly.

"Of course not." Rachel shakes her head. "I mean, what'd he think I'd do? Run off and have his freaking kid or something? _Hell_ no."

Suddenly a smidge of panic creeps up on Brooke and she looks at her friend more closely. She's seemingly content now, still puffing on the diminishing joint, but she knows Rachel. Knows that Rachel hates being cornered and that feelings were pretty much forbidden in hers and Owens relationship.

There's a crease between Rachel eyes. A small almost unnoticeable frown that stays even when the redhead exhales, and for a second the haze from the weed clears in her mind.

She gasps.

"Rach…" she mumbles. "What did you _do_?"

Rachel blinks. The frown deepens.

"I _dumped_ his sorry ass of course. What else?"

Oh shit. _Not_ good.

It's four in the morning, she's sitting on the bathroom floor with her best friend who happens to be an even bigger emotional retard than herself, and someone needs to deal with this freaking mess right away before Owen goes back to Duke and all this becomes even _worse_.

Someone needs to call Owen and tell him that… wait, someone needs to tell Owen to call… no…

_Damn it_.

She wants to focus, but when Rachel scrunches her nose like she does, she looks like the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, and it reminds her of the caterpillar that smoked that big cigar that…

_Shit_.

It is bound to fail. She's losing control and soon the giggle escapes her lips even though she tries to hold it back.

"He said _I love you_, and you _dumped_ him!" she squeals and then she falls to the side on the clinkered floor, laughing so hard that her sides hurt. "That's fucking priceless, Rachel!"

Rachel blinks again and then her lips twitch. A giggle that turns into a strained "I know…" and seconds later they're both rolling on the floor with laughter.

---x---

_Listen to the wind it won't lie to you  
If you love it let it go  
And watch it fly to you  
Every setting sun gently weeps  
You can always hear it  
'cause trust never sleeps_

---x---

**Authors note**: As always, the biggest thank you to all of you that read last chapter and to all of you that took time to review. We love hearing your thoughts. And an extra big thank you this week goes to Yana who said that we've created a character for Brooke Davis that goes beyond anything. We love you for that. :D

Audra, we completely agree. Brooke should have all the boys. But what fun would there be if there weren't any competition?

AliThompson, that thing you said about being sad that Brooke seems to be the second choice? That's what always made us sad. But we're not Mark ;)

Ella, it counts! :D Of course it does.

And Katie, welcome to the story. We hope that you'll like the rest just as much.


	12. Goodbye To Innocence

**AN: **Almost a week late but it's been hectic. And while Elena updated two of her stories, Lynn's usb-drive crashed and set us back a bit. But were back. Thank you all for reading, we really appreciate your support!

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 11: **_Goodbye To Innocence_

**Junior Year**

_**November 25**__**th**__** 2006**_

She's read the book, done her 'homework' and now its time to reap what she's sown. Brooke smirks to herself as she hikes her backpack up on her shoulder and spots a familiar blond guy over at the outside tables in the schoolyard. She's never read anything as fast in her entire life as she did the book currently in her hand.

Why?

Because she knows what she wants – and she'd be damned if she doesn't get it.

Tonight she's going to make damn sure that Lucas Scott knew exactly what he's been missing out on.

"All finished," she says when she walks up to him, hardly able to contain how proud she is of herself. "Now it's my turn."

He looks confused and she slaps the paperback down onto the table beside him, shoots off a bright smile before turning to leave. But she's hasn't even taken two steps away from him before he reaches out and grabs her wrist.

"Hey, hey, hey. Not so fast. Did you like it?" He chuckles lightly, looks at her expectantly. He seems to have caught on and she quirks her eyebrow in response.

"Did I like it or did I _read_ it?" she drawls. "The book's about how a guy loses his integrity and gives into temptation. Which is exactly what I see you doing tonight… with _me_." She flashes him another flirty grin and winks.

The underlying insinuation doesn't pass unnoticed and Lucas laughs. He looks so damn cute when he does that, that she almost leans in and kisses him right there on the spot. But all things in good time.

"Right," he mumbles when she trails a finger down the front of his shirt and a slight blush creeps up on his cheeks. "Well, a deal's a deal, right?" he says and nods.

Her face is the epitome of wayward mischief as she says,

"That's right, _baby_. A deal is a deal."

---x---

Her hands are shaking and she wishes she could say it was because she was on something. But no. Rachel Gatina is sober. She's not intoxicated with liquid or herbal courage. She would _like _to be. But she's not.

The sun is minutes from setting and the outside stadium is littered with several various sized shadows. When she closes her eyes she can smell the grass, hear the shouts between coach staff and players, feel the cool evening wind on her skin and sense that she is losing her mind.

Loud grunts upon impact fling her eyes back open just in time to see Owen tackled to the ground. Rachel cringes and can almost physically feel the pain he must be feeling from the hit he just took. But instead of helping him up off the ground, his team mates laugh and taunt him. Owen lifts a finger in return and then sits up to have his coach run out onto the field and scream in his face.

It's her fault. She knows it.

Wow, she actually feels kind of bad for him. Her cell phone tells her that Brooke has mostly likely started her '_Mission: Seduce Lucas_' plan and by now they should be at the pool hall. She smirks just thinking about the fact that Lucas doesn't stand a chance and then she frowns because now she has to carry out her own pre-discussed plan.

_Mission: Apologize to Owen. _

Brooke will kill her if she doesn't do this. Of course Rachel knows she can take the 5 foot 5 brunette but she actually likes her so she won't.

"_Get your ass back in the game, ­Morello! I don't care if your mother just died. You better get your head on straight, boy!" _Owen gets ripped a new one.

"_Come on, Morello! No chick is worth getting in your head like that! Let's go!_"

Full of shame and guilt, Rachel shakes her head and walks back out the way she came. She can't do this. She thought she could, but she can't. What was the use anyways? She came here to apologize for her reaction when he said '_I love you_.'

She didn't come here to say it back.

---x---

"I didn't know you could shoot pool," Lucas says and watches in amazement as Brooke sinks three of the balls in the same corner. She looks up and smiles, secretively as if amused.

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

Evidently there is. Honestly she's been surprising him a lot lately. Not just with stuff like dragging him along to this bar, fake ID's and pool-skills, but with stuff concerning her persona.

"Really? Like what?"

He asks the question with real curiosity, because he actually wants to know what makes the girl tick. She's not as one-layered as he had thought a couple of weeks ago and he loves when that smile graces her face. The dimples that appear are truly beautiful.

"Like… I love it in the summer when there's heat lightning at night." Her raspy voice turns lower and she bends over the table and shoots again. "And up until the fourth grade, I called squirrels _squillers_."

The ball goes in just as easily as the others. He laughs and in the corner of his eye he watches her line up the next shot. A thought triggered by the sight of her bent over form flies through his head and he blushes.

"What else?" he asks while trying to stay focused.

She looks up at him, eyes gleaming behind shiny chocolate colored bangs.

"I _love_ beating boys at pool."

She's amazingly pretty, no doubt about it. But lately he has started to realize that it doesn't stop there. Brooke Davis is more than the front she is displaying in school and at parties. She has a heart. And the night at Peyton's house, when they stayed up talking for hours, she started to reveal it to him. Then came the night at the diner, when he discovered her intelligence while going over their English assignment…

Now, in the darkness of the shady bar, she's more back to her flirty self. But it still feels a little different. As if he's getting a part of her that she doesn't show around others.

He smiles. Instantly she smiles too.

"Oh my God! A smile?" she exclaims tauntingly. "Is Lucas Scott _actually_ having fun?"

He laughs, and when he answers "I _have_ fun", then he is being honest. He _is_ having fun. It's nice to let loose and not be so broody for once, and laughing around Brooke comes so natural. But Brooke quirks her perfect eyebrow in disbelief.

"Sure you do. Lucas, you're like the most serious guy I've ever met." She laughs with a grin that reaches her eyes.

As if on command he turns around and grabs one of the beers she has bought them. "Fine." He takes a sip. "Does that make you happy?"

"A little." She pauses.

For a second she looks away, occupying herself with her cell-phone. He can see the display light up with the incoming call but she doesn't answer it.

When she isn't trying so hard to flirt with him she is a lot less intimidating and he takes in the sight of her. The black shirt she is wearing has slid down a little and reveals a perfect shoulder and a beautiful collarbone. And suddenly he wants nothing but to press his lips against the delicate skin there.

"Well, just as long as you don't feel cheated" he mumbles and tries to act cool. "You read a book, I drink a beer. We're even, right?"

Loudly Brooke lets out a pearly laugh. "Wait, did you think that _this_ was the thing you have to do with me?"

She finally misses a shot and with an amused facial expression she stands back to watch him try his luck. He feels confused. Wasn't that the deal? That he'd do this if she read the Steinbeck?

"Well, yeah," he tries and shrugs in question. "Isn't it?"

"No." She shakes her head and her chocolate brown hair bounces around her face. A whiff of her shampoo suddenly surrounds him and he feels intoxicated. "This isn't the thing" she breathes out. "This is just… drinks _before_ the thing."

He still hasn't gotten around to actually shooting and she walks around the pool-table and grabs the other beer on the tray. With a smile that seems to promise a lot more than what's being said, she raises the glass. "Bottoms up, Broody boy," she adds with a wink.

Clinking his own glass towards hers, he smiles. And when the cold fluid trickles down his throat he kind of knows that she's winning in a lot more than a simple pool-game.

---x---

Lucas _must_ be drunk. He's never been drunk before so he doesn't really know how it feels, but it's the only explanation he can think of to why he can't stop laughing. And to why he can't control himself enough not to stare at Brooke's chest like an idiot.

"Don't you love weird science?" she laughs and he nods and puts down the empty glass clumsily.

With the best interpretation he can muster he produces a; "Ah, the family jewels" and Brooke breaks out in a new fit of laughter, making those incredible dimples sink even deeper into her cheeks.

"He doesn't even have a license, Lisa!"

Her face is so close to his and those plump lips of hers looks so god damn tempting. So tempting that the interruption of her cell-phone feels almost as a punishment for past lives sin. Disappointedly he watches as she pulls back and retrieves the ringing phone from her pocket. She looks at the display for a second and then she simply puts it back without answering the call.

"Booty-call?" he half-jokes since this is the fourth time tonight, and when she just shrugs, he is surprised to feel a tiny sting of jealousy. But it disappears when she leans back in.

"Where were we?" She murmurs in a raspy voice that makes him smile. He doesn't remember anything past the last few seconds. But he knows damn well where he _wants_ to be.

"I'm glad we did this," he mutters and by leaning in just a little bit more he's now so close that he can breathe in her scent for real. She smells even better than he could have ever imagined. It's even more intoxicating then the beer he's been drinking. His head spins in glorious circles around the bar and then suddenly everything stops.

Brooke smiles and his eyes zero in on her mouth as she licks her lips. "Good" she lets out just loud enough to be heard over the noise in the bar. "So what's your take on tattoos?"

The question is random but he couldn't care less. At this point he feels like she could ask him whatever and he'd run to hell and back just to please her. As long as she keeps smiling that sexy smile and she doesn't take her hand off of his thigh.

"I don't know… depends." He stares down at her with eyes full of an intensity she knows so well. She's just never seen it in his eyes before. She likes it—no, she _loves _it.

"Come here." Her husky tone draws him into her spell.

She grabs his hand and leads him into a hidden corridor in the back. They act like two giddy teens in a bar full of grown adults and yet it's as if they are the only two in the building. Their shadows slide over the walls like two enticed phantoms and with each passing second their body-temperatures increase towards dangerous territories. Leaning against a wall, she pulls him closer.

"What do you think…" she starts undoing her pants and his breath hitches in his throat in sweet anticipation. "…About…" he can't breathe as she slides her zipper down, "_this_ tattoo?"

His gaze drops to the spot in question and he pulls in a deep breath once she pulls back her jeans and reveals a small tattoo on the inside of her right hip. It's a miniature Chinese symbol and it hovers above a very provocative spot. He feels like he's in a wet-dream and he silently prays to God to not wake up.

Brooke watches the blond boy that suddenly looks so different. Again, there's a fire in those blue eyes that seems so utterly familiar and a shiver travels up her spine. His eyes are trained at her hip and his chest rises as if he fights to suppress a moan that wants to slip out. Then he brings his eyes back up to meet hers and she doesn't even recognize his voice when he breathes out;

"That tattoo is very… _very_… sexy."

The pad of his thumb trails her lower lip and the gesture is so hot and so innocent at the same time that she feels like she's about to go insane if she doesn't kiss him.

"Right answer," she lets out and her voice betrays her. She can't wait any longer so when he licks his lips, she simply takes the chance and leans in. She expects him to be hesitant but surprisingly he meets her half-way. Just as fierce and passionate as she feels.

His kisses are so different from Nathan's. They are ravenous and fervent, but at the same time they are also soft and attentive—innocently experimenting and almost shy. His palms are hot against her face as he pulls her in as if to inhale her. His lips are plush and they press to hers firmly before he pulls away to peck her three times. Their lips part with light smacking sounds and she giggles into his mouth.

Her phone starts to vibrate in her pocket but instead of answering it or pressing ignore, she presses her hips into Luke's. He gasps in surprise of the pulsating cellular device between them but it doesn't stop him from continuously kissing her.

Her hands reach up and he slides his hands down to her waist so that she can curl her arms around his neck. He pants into her neck and pauses to take a deep breath but she nudges him with her chin and then their mouths gravitate back together. She bets that he's a virgin, but when his fumbling hands travel up her waist towards her chest and he exhales out into their kiss, she decides that she doesn't care.

Lucas Scott is definite boyfriend material. She's never had one but staring into his eyes she knows that he will be her first. Just as she plans to be his first…

Well, there will certainly be lots of different _firsts_ to come.

"You should get one…" she mumbles and captures his earlobe between her teeth while he presses her harder against the brick-wall. She can feel him against her thigh and it makes her head fall back while a moan escapes past her lips. The sound of her desire makes him shudder into her lustfully.

"Uhh… a what?" He sounds all dazed and she laughs at the effect she has on him.

"A tattoo. Just like the one I've got."

She juts her bottom lip out just slightly, a maneuver she's learned gets her anything she wants when she's around boys. She knows Lucas will be no different, she's fucking _Brooke Davis _after all. There is no way around her decisions once her mind is set, everyone knows this. Surely so should Lucas.

When he nods and lets her lead her out of the club without protests, she can't hold back the wide grin that is forming on her face. Her phone still vibrates in her pocket but she keeps ignoring it. She knows who it is without looking.

It's been Nathan all night.

---x---

He's pissed and he just doesn't get it.

Why the hell isn't she answering his calls? Why hasn't she slithered into his room with that smirk and those panties she wears just for him?

It's been two fucking weeks since he's broken up with Peyton and by now he should have hooked up with Brooke plenty of times. Sure, she's been weird lately, even more so after the other night in her kitchen. But nothing about this makes sense. She _always _shows up when he calls her.

So where the hell was she now?

He's tempted to call Rachel. But he knows that the redhead will just laugh in his face right before she hangs up. He knows she's aware that he and Brooke still have their secret rendezvous between the sheets whenever he and Peyton are on a 'break'. It's unspoken between the three of them and has been since the beginning.

And he can't call Brooke again because he knows that if he dials her number one more time he will come off as desperate. It angers him to know that she has this much power over him without even lifting a finger. All she has to do is pick up her damn phone and he'll do the rest. He'll tell her where, when and _how _he will give it to her.

She'll chuckle in that rough throaty laugh that makes him hard _every—single—time _and then he'll violate her ten different ways. _She_ knows this, _he_ knows this, so why isn't she fulfilling her side of their private arrangement?

He's tempted to call Teresa—but she's almost more boring than Peyton. She's cool to mess with when he's wasted and there's no one else, but other than that… The beginning of a frown starts on his face and he's just about to heave a giant '_this-fucking-sucks' ­_sigh whena pair of tiny hands creep up his sides.

Relief floods over him like a cool rainfall and he groans into the body at his back. _Finally_, he says to himself.

"What the fuck took you so damn long?" He twists around and a low growl rumbles in the back of his throat but it stops dead at the tip of his tongue.

"P-Peyton?" he clears his throat.

"Who the hell else?" Her seductive leer melts into a scowl.

"You!" He spits out quickly. "Duh," he snorts and shakes his head at her incredulously.

Her fingers slither up his spine and through his hair, she takes a step closer to press herself against him and even though it feels good, he wants her to stop. It's like sipping a diet coke when you were expecting to take a huge gulp of the real stuff.

"So does this mean we're back on?" he asks completely uninterested.

She doesn't catch the disappointment in his voice and frankly, she doesn't care. She's a week before her rag and she's hornier than a motherfucker. She needs ass and Nathan will never turn her down. She knows this—_he _knows this.

"On, off… does it really even matter anymore?" She mutters and pulls him towards her by the front of his shirt.

_Yes_. He wants to snap into her face. It _does_ matter. Because when they're _on_ he can't wait until they're back _off_ so he can be with Brooke. He'd like to pretend that he doesn't care either way. Like he usually doesn't. But their usual routine of on-off has hit a snag somewhere down the line.

Because he doesn't _want_ to get back together.

Her smile doesn't produce the two deep indents on the sides of her face like Brookes. When she laughs it doesn't make him bite back a smile and shake his head at her. Her hair doesn't fall over her face like a curtain when she hovers over him—or fall into her eyes when a gust of wind blows past.

Peyton's lips press at his chin, his throat, collar bone and she lifts up the bottom of his shirt to litter his chest with wet kisses. But it does nothing for him—his mind is whirling full of confused voices and they get louder by the second.

"Stop," he mutters but she doesn't. In fact she laughs at him because hearing that word from his mouth is absurd. It's laughable. _Stop_? What a joke.

"No seriously," he grinds out and pushes her away, "I can't do this."

_What the fuck?!_

He smashes his hands into his eyes and rubs them over his face. She's there and she's willing and she's familiar and she's Peyton… his girlfriend since freshman year. What the hell is wrong with him?

But he knows.

A realization hits him hard enough to make his stomach drop to the floor. Peyton scowls up at him with her hands on her hips and he shrugs. He can't tell her the truth. He can barely admit it to himself.

She throws out a few colorful words and flips him off before storming out of his room and still he says nothing. He can't. Now he's fucked because he can't call Brooke again and besides, she's not answering. He won't call Rachel because—well, that's obvious. So not only is he stuck by himself with this sudden realization, but now he's going to have to finish himself off in the shower. Alone. No Brooke. No Peyton. No one but himself.

So again, he's _fucked_.

Lately though, what's really new with that?

---x---

She giggles as she pulls him with her into the busy tattoo parlor and he feels like a complete idiot. His head is swimming from the beer and its past midnight. He should be thinking about heading home, he's promised Keith, but the alluring girl in tight jeans just a step in front of him – the one with the raspy laugh that makes his head spin for other reasons than the alcohol – she keeps him from even considering walking away.

"Hi Ian," Brooke happily greets a guy at the counter and Lucas watches the man look up and break into a wide grin.

"If it isn't Brooke Davis in person." The tattooed guy turns and yells to the back of the shop, "Hey Brent! Brookie is here to mark a boytoy. You wanna take it?"

There's a grunt from the back, which Lucas guesses is an affirmative answer, and then the Ian-guy comes around to wrap an arm around Brooke. "So who've you got here? And where's Ray-Ray?"

Brooke beams and claps her hands in excitement. "This is _Lucas_," she says and smiles widely, "Rachel is crawling in the dust to make up with O."

Ian laughs and wiggles an eyebrow. "Reversed roles, huh?"

He guesses that they're referring to Rachel and her boyfriend, that big football player that almost hit him with his car, and while Brooke small-talks he looks around in the studio. Even though it's late, it's still busy. The sound of the tattoo guns buzzing around him makes his head ache. Suddenly he feels nervous. He's never had a tattoo, he hates needles and he's pretty sure that it's not even legal to get a tattoo without parental consent if you're under eighteen.

"Hey, B?" the Ian-guy says just as Brooke nudges him to walk towards the back of the shop. "Owen's not still pissed, is he? He needs to come back so that I can fill in the outlines. Uh, I wasn't really done when he- um, took off."

Brooke's arm is loosely wrapped around his waist and while she stops and laughs at Ian's question, she securely tucks her hand into his back pocket. The warmth of her palm pulls his thoughts from the pain he's about to suffer and while she talks, he watches her plush lips.

"He's cool Ian. Just remove the 'evidence' when he shows up, okay? He's kind of protective of me and Raye."

"Yeah, I noticed," Ian chuckles and another tattooed guy throws in a sarcastic, "Didn't we all?"

But he just watches Brooke. The way her red lips pucker up into a pout. "Shut up, Brent," she mutters and he wants to kiss her again, like before in the bar, and blushing; he can feel parts of himself spring to life just by thinking of it.

"Hey blondie," the second tattoo-artist mutters walking by, "you gonna come with or what?"

He looks up to see that the Brent-guy is talking to him and the nervousness is back. "Yeah sure," he says and starts walking after him, but Brooke's hand in his pocket holds

him back.

"A kiss for good luck?" she asks and winks cutely before moving to her tip toes to reach his lips. Then the hand glides out and gives him a light smack over the back of his jeans. "Call me if you need me," she adds in that raspy seductive tone. "I'll be right here."

He nods and walks towards his doom. And even drunk he knows that this is ridiculous. Getting tattooed because a hot girl tells him to, is not his usual game. He's not a brainless drooling follower.

But then he looks back over his shoulder and sees Brooke lean towards the counter to talk to Ian and he shakes his head at his own weak character. He might as well admit it; he's pretty sure that Brooke Davis can get a guy to do anything she wants.

---x---

She flips through the pages of one of the many portfolios lying on the counter while Ian's busy on the phone. It doesn't take long before she finds the picture of herself and Rachel. They're both wearing just t-shirts with the tattoo-studio's logo and panties, sexy smirks in place and with very confident expressions. Their matching Chinese symbols are in clear view on the inner hip, hers on the right, Raye's on the left.

She smiles. It'd been a crazy night when they got their twin tattoos and an even crazier one the night when they came back to get Owen tatted up. She understands Ian's uncertainty earlier as well as his somewhat frightened expression. Usually it was fun to hang out at Ink Masters but Owen had not been such a happy camper finding this picture. It was a good thing that Ian was almost done at that point because otherwise Owen would be walking around with a half finished tattoo on his back.

Even so she's a little surprised that the guys still had the picture in there. Maybe they were more afraid of Rachel's wrath than of Owens. It had after all been Raye's idea in the first place.

She flips the page and her eyes get stuck at another picture. She trails the outlines of the dark haired guy with the tip of her finger for a second and smiles at the cocky facial expression he sports while showing off that nipple ring.

Then Brent says something to Lucas that sounds like "Dude, are you okay?" and she looks around at her blonde date. He looks a little green in the face and she wonders if he's nauseous from the all the beer or from the almost done tattoo.

"I'm fine," Lucas grunts back but he's a terrible liar. As a matter of fact she wonders if he has ever told a lie before in his life. Something in his features just seems way too innocent.

Swaying her hips as she walks over to the chair, she winks at Brent and she straddles herself across Lucas' lap. Clearly this boy needs a distraction.

"C'mon Broody," she teases playfully, "it can't be that bad, can it? You want me to kiss it better?"

He heaves a big sigh and looks down at his naked shoulder with a concerned expression but when she starts trailing kisses up his jaw towards his earlobe, then he seems to relax a bit. She presses herself closer to him, makes the kisses hotter and wetter until she finally captures his lips with hers. The sound of the tattoo gun starts over again but Lucas stays relaxed and sated. And when Brent is done, and she starts to pull back, then she finds that Lucas' eyes are closed and his breathing seems a lot faster than before.

"You okay now?" she breathes across his lips and he leans in and kisses her again.

"Yeah, totally…"

"Good," she whispers and backs off of his lap, "Because I want you to come home with me."

Lucas looks surprised in the midst of his make-out daze and she smiles seductively and reaches out her hand to him. Brent chuckles and shakes his head and when Lucas stands up on shaky legs, shirt-less and with a band-aid secured over fresh tattoo, Brent mumbles;

"You're incorrigible Brooke."

She winks back.

"I do my best, Brent. I really do."

---x---

It's late.

The beer in is system makes it hard to tell exactly _how_ late it is but he knows that its way past his curfew. And even though he is currently 'parent-free' – since his mom is in Italy attending culinary school – Keith is probably worried.

The weird thing is that he couldn't care less.

He breathes heavily against her neck and she finally manages to get his t-shirt over his head. He winces when the material slides over the band-aid on his shoulder but Brooke pulls him in and recaptures his lips, efficiently making him forget any tattoo-related pain.

Tattoo…

Something tells him that he's going to regret _that one_ in the morning.

He chuckles deep in his throat but then the brunette on top of him moves creating friction against the hard bulge in his jeans and he moans. The drunken fog is slowly clearing, yet all he can think about is the girl that sits straddled over his lap. The feel of her body against his. Her lips, her hands, her sounds…

God, he loves those sounds.

It's dark around them and he leans back against the soft pillows, thinking that this is the first time he's inside her house. In the back of his mind he wonders where her parents are. If he should really be in her bedroom at 2 in the morning half naked. But that raspy voice whispering his name and the hot breath against his ear makes him ignore the questions.

And then she pulls her own shirt off and he clenches his teeth and closes his eyes, almost scared of what will happen if he keeps watching her. He doesn't have that much experience but something tells him that he'll explode and he knows that it would be a horribly embarrassing moment.

With eyes closed he can keep it together when she touches him. He can pretend that this utterly blissful experience isn't something that should send his stress-level shooting through the roof.

This morning he had barely made it past first base and now he's on his back in _Brooke Davis'_ bed, watching her getting naked.

"I want you, Lucas," she breathes out and his eyes snap open again to see her lick her lips.

A new thought slips through his still slightly intoxicated brain.

…_I'm the luckiest damn guy in the world…_

Its weird but he even forgets to feel shy and when her hands slide down his torso and her nails softly rakes his abs – then he pulls in a deep breath and forgets everything that his mom ever taught him about the dangers of adolescent sex.

"I don't know–," he breathes out strained, "I – I don't know what to do."

It's true. He doesn't.

But Brooke's lips just crash down on his and when her tongue dances against his, autopilot sets in and he slides his hands up her sides until they come up and tangle in her silky dark hair to pull her closer.

He wants her so much that its silly and while a second ago he was worried where this was going, he's now very afraid that he's going to wake up and realize that this is just a very wet dream.

She's so warm and her skin is so soft under his fingertips. She smells like flowers and sun – although it's late in November – and her mouth tastes just… just like candy.

He just wants _more_.

"It'll come to you," she whispers breathlessly. "Just go with it…"

He bites his bottom lip, contemplating the shifts and turns of his world for a fraction of a second. She looks down at him, eyes twinkling with lust and soft waves of hair falling around her face like a curtain, and he reaches up and fastens some of it behind her ear.

This is crazy and he knows it. Having his first time be with the school's most popular girl is probably a sure way of getting in over his head. But he can't help himself. His hands shakily slide down her back to the clasp of her bra and she arches back, giving him the silent permission he needs. And when the fabric gives away and slowly peels off her skin, then his heart is beating so fast that he thinks he might faint. The straps slide down her arms and she lets the bra fall. His breath hitches in his throat. The glimpse he got when she undressed in his car was nothing compared to this.

He's never seen anything so perfect.

"Wow…" he whispers and she lets out a soft but raspy laugh.

Without thinking he rolls them over so that she is the one resting on her back in the bed and his hand comes up to touch her breast. Amazed he watches how the nipple turns hard like a pebble and on impulse he bends his head and kisses the hardened knob. The soft moan that slips from her sends shivers down his spine.

He beams with pride because _he_ made her let out that sound.

Why hasn't he done this before? Better yet, why didn't he do it already when she was half naked in his car?

Her leg wraps around him, presses him closer to her, and she starts working on his belt. He clenches his teeth and he doesn't even know where to start but he's thankful to the lingering feel of liquid courage. Most days he's a fairly levelheaded bloke and he's not sure that he would've been brave enough to get this far without it.

The sound of his zipper is loud in the silent room and then her hand slides into his pants. He gasps for air and her name falls off his lips with the outtake of air. He might not know where to start but suddenly he knows _exactly_ where he wants to end.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers seconds before her mouth is back on his and he doesn't even stop to think when she shoves his jeans down over his hips. His palm is still resting over her breast but he has this sudden urge to feel her entire body so he rests his weight on one elbow and reaches down to unbutton her pants. Retaliates to get her naked as well.

She shimmies out of her jeans and then they roll around again while she licks a trail up his neck. The sound of her fast breath so close to his ear is like an aphrodisiac cheering him on and then she presses down on him.

He can feel the warm wetness even through the fabric of his boxers and his eyes roll back in his head, suddenly thinking that this was going to end long before it's even really started. He's harder than he's ever been and the way she moves on top of him is lethal.

Every move she makes, he tries to copy. His hips press into hers, his hands explores every inch of her naked skin and he even goes as far as slipping his fingers briefly under the fabric of her lacy panties. But then he slows down. He doesn't want to do anything she doesn't want him to do.

He knows that she's no virgin, but even in his intoxicated state, he doesn't want to make her feel cheap.

"Brooke?" he pants breathlessly, "Are you sure? I mean, we don–"

"I'm sure."

Her raspy voice is so inviting and then she tugs his boxers down with a smirk that only makes him want her more. With a deep breath he lets her panties follow and he grunts out a moan loud enough to make him blush when her small hand reaches down and wraps around his shaft.

The sensation is so wonderful that he hardly notices when she leans over to her nightstand and brings out a condom. But he's glad she remembers because in his blissful state he had _totally_ forgotten about that little detail.

His mother would _kill_ him…

He reaches up and pulls Brooke's face down to his own, kisses her with all that he has and her body molds to his in a way that feels out of this world. He can hear the sound of her ripping the wrapper and he thanks god for that Steinbeck book and their childish bet.

This night has been so much more than he expected and he already feels like he's in heaven.

Yet the best part is still about to start.

---x---

"Come again?" she rasps in her sleepy haze and sits up in her bed to glance at the clock. "You are way past business hours, buddy," she scoffs into the phone. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

He chuckles, and even through his laughter she can tell that's he's drunk.

"Come on tutor-babe, come out and play with me. I promise I won't bite…" he teases aimlessly and she wonders if he's driving or if he's planted himself on solid ground.

She hopes for the latter—no—she _prays _for it.

"Nathan," Haley sighs into her phone, "why are you calling me so late? You're drunk and you're—"

"Available," he mumbles into the phone, "I am completely willing to let you take advantage of me Haley James. All you have to do is…" he pauses and she rolls her eyes.

"You're drunk," she states the obvious once again.

But he continues on as if she's said nothing, "…is pick me up from Blue Post."

Her eyes shoot open in surprise, "You're at a bar?"

"I am?!" he gasps, "Oh my _gosh!_" he says then bursts out laughing.

"Of all your millions of friends, Nathan," she grumbles, "you called _me _to come and pick you up?" She scoffs in utter disbelief.

"You're the only one," he pauses to swallow a burp, "the only one I trust. Please, Haley," his tone softens, "I need your help."

She hesitates, and from his side of the phone, he smirks. Once again, he has her. Seriously, he could do this in his sleep—he practically _is _asleep—and she never stood a chance. His theory is correct.

Put a rebellious 'bad boy' in front of a girl like Haley James and their inescapable _need_ to make sense out of something—or some_one_—kicks in.

Nathan's played this game before, it was easier then than it was now, however. Freshman year he'd hand-picked Peyton Sawyer's scrawny ass and look at her now. Top of her game and throwing it away. He pities her sometimes. She doesn't know what she wants. Or _who _she wants, because it's clearly apparent that who she wants is not Nathan.

Even when she tries to fake like she does. Which is bullshit because he can see right through her. Peyton associates all her emotions through manipulating those around her. When she's mad she lashes out and says things to make the other person feel inferior. When she's sad she does the same thing. But when she's bored or lonely…

She wants sex.

"Nathan?" Haley's concerned tone breaks through his thoughts. "Are you still there?"

"Uh, yeah," he shakes his head back and forth to clear the fuzz, "yeah I'm here."

She heaves a deep sigh, "You better be out front when I get there or I'm driving right past."

He's almost giddy as he says, "I'll be waiting for you with baited breath."

But Haley just snorts, she doesn't melt like any other girl would, he likes that.

"Yeah, okay, go ahead and suffocate yourself because I plan to take my sweet ass time." Her grunted words make him chuckle in amusement and that only helps to make her more irritated. "Why am I doing this?" she groans to herself.

"Because you're secretly in love with me?" he snickers back quickly.

Another scoff, "No, that's certainly not it. Be ready, by Nathan."

—click—

---x---

She stretches in the bed. Pulls a hand through her dark tangled locks of hair and lets the smile spread over her face. The door closes downstairs and she finally lets out the giggle that she's been holding in.

Then she rolls over to lie on her belly in the tangled sheets and she reaches for her cell phone on the floor by her discarded clothes. 5 new missed calls since leaving the Blue Post, 3 from Nathan and 2 from Rachel.

Disregarding Nathan's calls – he's probably just drunk and wants a hook-up buddy – she presses 1 on speed-dial and waits as the signals go through to her redheaded best friend. So it took her a little longer than expected to cash in on Lucas but so what?

_Mission: Seduce Lucas_ – completed.

"Hey skank," she smirks into the cell when Rachel finally picks up. "Did I interrupt the weekly Rachel/Owen make-up fuck?"

Rachel snorts a raspy "Screw you," but she's too excited to care if she's breaking up her friend's late night wrestling.

"Actually? No need," she quips happily. "_Lucas_ did it for me. So mission completed."

"Yeah? Good for you."

Rachel sounds disconnected and unfocused and Brooke sighs and rolls her eyes. "Raye, tell Owen to lay off it for a sec, okay? I get unwanted mental pictures. I just wan-"

"He's not here."

"What?"

Brooke sits up in the bed and wraps the sheet around herself. "But–"

"I didn't say sorry," Rachel mumbles and for a second Brooke detects a vulnerability in her best friend's voice that is _not_ supposed to be there. She drops the sheet and stands up on slightly jello-ish legs.

"Why?" she asks and goes into her closet to find clean clothes, and she's already pulling on underwear when Rachel breathes "I don't know…"

"Did you go see him?"

She jams the phone between chin and shoulder and pulls on a pair of jeans while she waits for Rachel's response. What the hell had gone wrong here? The missions had been simple. She was to finally seduce Lucas and Rachel was to make up with Owen. Rachel had the easier of the two, right? She and Big O had these fights so often that making up should be a habit.

"I drove up there, but–"

"– But you couldn't get yourself to say 'sorry'?" She sighs and makes a pause to pull a sweater over her head. Sometimes her friend's pride took ridiculous measures. "Jeez, Rachel. It's just a word, okay? Telling him that _you_ were wrong for once is not the end of the world."

While stepping into a pair of sneakers, she waits for the snappy comeback – for the 'whatever' or the 'mind your own fucking business' – but Rachel says nothing on the other end. There's just the sound of a hollow sigh and she presses the phone closer to her ear .

"Raye," she mumbles softer, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

There is nothing 'okay' with that response and she grabs her purse and her car-keys. She's still a bit intoxicated, she smells like sex and Lucas and its past 3.30 in the morning, yet when Rachel adds, "I'm fine, just– just enjoy your success, I'll see you tomorrow." Then she just huffs in response and makes it out the front door.

"Don't be ridiculous Elmo," she snorts lovingly. "I'll be at your house in five."

What fucks her up the most is that Rachel's only response is "Thanks."

She knows better than anyone that 'thank you' comes almost as hard for Rachel as 'I'm sorry'.

---x---

This is seriously not the way today was supposed to play out. She'd had it planned from beginning to finish and not a damn thing that gone the way it was supposed to. She should have sensed her failure before even getting out of bed that morning.

Rachel Gatina has lost.

She and Brooke had set out earlier that day each with an agenda to uphold and given the fact that Brooke hasn't answered her phone once all day, Rachel is pretty sure the brunette is winning. A grimace takes over her face as she imagines the icky things Brooke must be doing to Lucas right about now. There was a time when Rachel would congratulate such a conquest.

Today, however, she's just tired. Tired of the games and the walls and cold exteriors that she puts up to keep everyone else out. It's sad really, she thinks as she curls up in the middle of her bed and pulls Brooke's purple monkey closer to her chest. She's only 17 and yet she's way beyond her years. It's bad enough that because of her parents constant need to move from continent to continent, she's a grade behind. Academically Rachel should be a senior this year, yet because of a mix up during the move from Italy to the United States back when she was fourteen, she was placed in the wrong grade class.

Her private school in Italy was far more advanced and when she'd been assigned to repeat the seventh grade, Rachel found it useless and instead spent most of her time ditching school with boys from the local public high school. She sighs thinking of her adolescence and how quickly she'd gone from girl to woman and how easy it was to turn her back on her innocence.

She hates that her eyes stare at the top drawer of her nightstand. She knows what's in there, and it's the very thing that terrifies her. Especially when she sets Brooke's monkey aside and scoots closer to open said forbidden drawer. There it sits. One long strip of four candid shots featuring two smiling faces. She can barely recognize herself when she smiles like that.

Her finger touches the faces in the pictures, the top one is of Owen grinning like a fool as she presses her lips to the side of his face. The next she's got her head thrown back in laughter as Owen makes a funny face towards the camera. The third they both make serious faces and she laughs when she realizes for the first time that Owen had placed two fingers behind her head to make bunny ears.

But it's the last one that she hates most.

She takes a deep breath and rips it away from the first three photos prepared to crush it between her fingers before she tosses it into the trash along with the first three. Because staring at the fourth picture, she realizes something she'd been determined to avoid. She closes her hand around the image and yet she's unable to crumble it.

Falling back down to the bed she reaches for the purple monkey and cradles it to her chest again. She keeps the lone snapshot in her hand and refuses to look at it again. Yet she can't bring herself to get rid of it just yet. She will, just… just not yet.

Her phone rings and she sighs while reaching out for it and missing it on the table beside her lamp. A groan escapes her lips and then she rolls over and grabs it, but as she does the picture falls free from her fingers and flutters down to the floor.

Stuck staring at it laying face up, she gulps and answers her phone quickly.

"Hey Skank," Brooke's cheerful voice pipes in followed by more words she blocks out.

Because her eyes are trained to the floor where she and Owen stare at each other face to face with pure and raw emotion in their eyes. Their noses touch, his hand is up brushes a lock of hair behind her ear and yet they just… watch each other. She can remember how they'd stayed just like that even after the last flash had signaled the end of their 5-dollar photo shoot.

"…so, mission accomplished." Brooke's voice says through the receiver.

Rachel tears her eyes away from the photo on her floor and shakes her head clear, "Yeah?" she mutters uninterested, "well good for you."

She hates how easily Brooke catches on and even when she says she's fine, the brunette knows better. It's almost too much for her to take in that moment. She's ready to snap out harsh words and hang up, but then it occurs to her that if she pushes away the last person she has… she'll be alone. And as much as she tries to act as if she doesn't care, it's the one thing she can't stand.

So when Brooke insists she's coming over, the only thing Rachel can think to respond with is a simple, "_Thanks_." She knows just as well as Brooke does that saying the word is the same as crying for help. It's the closest she'll ever get to asking for it.

But she's still sure to put everything back the way it was before Brooke comes over. She even sets the monkey back onto Brookes side of the room and hides the pictures at the bottom of her trash. But the last photo she slips into her back pocket. She still can't quite bring herself to get rid of it just yet. But she will, just…

Just not yet.

---x---

He's right where he says he'll be when she pulls up to the same bar she's driven to many times before to play DD for her sister, Taylor. She can't really put her finger on it, but she's pretty sure that whatever is bothering Nathan Scott is something that he's been struggling with for quite some time.

"Tutor James!" Nathan's huge grin widens even further as he stumbles towards her silver Jetta. "What's with you chicks and Volkswagens?" he snorts with a grimace.

"I'm sorry," she starts with a look of doubt, "did you want a ride home or not?"

"Oh I want a ride alright," he chuckles and slumps into her passenger seat.

"Seatbelt," she mutters and shifts the car into reverse.

He huffs in annoyance and struggles with the belt, a frown mars his usual flawless features and she hates that he looks adorable as he pauses to stare up at her with puppy dog eyes. "Help me?" he juts his bottom lip out.

"You've got to be kidding me," she mumbles more to herself than to the boy who's somehow managed to tangle himself in the seatbelt that a five year child could work with no conflict.

She straps him in and takes off immediately afterwards. She hates being around slinky bars such as these, they make her feel dirty.

"God, you smell like smoke and booze," she covers her nose with a hand and quickly presses a button to crack the windows. "How did you get here, anyways? Where was your car? Who will pick it up tomorrow? Will it even still _be _there tomorrow?"

Nathan chuckles at her questions, "T.J.," he starts, "relax. All is good. You're here, I'm here… we're together. It's all good." He reaches a hand out to set it down onto her thigh and the second he touches her the car goes veering off to the right and they nearly crash into a ditch.

"Hand! Off! Now!" she screams and slaps his hand away from her then turns to repeatedly slam his shoulder with a closed fist. "You freaking perv! I don't care how drunk you are right now Nathan! There are rules!"

"No one follows rules!" he shouts back loud enough to cause her to flinch and retreat back to her side of the car. "You set rules and they get broken, that's life T.J."

"Yell at me again and see what happens," she replies as a threat.

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, "I'm sorry," he mumbles shamefully, "I don't know what the hell is wrong with me tonight."

_Finally_, she thinks, _some sincerity for once._

"It's fine," she says and pulls the car back onto the road, "just don't do it again."

He nods and they drive a few minutes in silence. Blissful silence, she thinks until he heaves a deep sigh and she suddenly feels impelled to ask what's wrong. He says nothing—of course he says nothing!—and she allows him the benefit of the doubt so she does not ask again.

"Can I ask you something?" he turns in his seat to stare at her and she has to admit that it slightly makes her blush.

"Sure, why not?" she sighs.

He chuckles and blinks his two blue eyes at her, "If I wasn't Lucas' brother," he shifts in his seat to get more comfortable, "would I have a shot?"

She pauses, "What?" she says peaking at him from the corner of her eye.

He shrugs and she steals a glance at him, "You just seem hell bent on _not _giving into me," he smirks and she blushes again, "I know you like me, Haley," he nods, "you give yourself away too easy."

"Yeah?" she replies with a slight bite in her tone. "Well so do you," she glares, "and no. It's not because you're Luke's brother that you don't have a shot. It's because you're an inconsiderate asshole and you care about no one but yourself."

He blinks as if hearing those words for the first time. He's heard them plenty from the mouths of Peyton, Brooke, Rachel and his mother. But never has he ever actually _listened _until now.

"How do you do it?" he wonders aloud.

"What?" she frowns.

He shrugs, "How do you play the innocent act so well? Somewhere in there has to be a bad girl just dying to get out."

She laughs, "I don't think so."

"You sure about that?" he dares to move his hand closer until his fingers slide over hers on the gearshift.

"You're touching me," she mutters in annoyance.

"You're functioning normally this time," he responds, "I don't see a reason in pulling away just yet."

"I will knee you in the balls," she growls and he laughs. "Why are you trying so hard, Nathan? This isn't like you."

He scowls and pulls away, "You don't know me."

"And you don't know _me_," she snaps back, "so stop trying to seduce me because I'm not stupid, Nathan. It's not going to happen."

_It's not going to happen…_

"You don't mean that," he shakes his head and circles his finger over her wrist.

"Nathan," her tone grows irritated and tired, so unlike he's used to hearing from the opposite sex unless it was Peyton.

"You still got my cracker jack bracelet?" he asks.

She sighs, "Yeah."

"Can I see it?"

"It's at home," she says stopping at a red light and pulls her hand away from his caress, "Nathan, seriously. What are you doing?" her voice trembles when he slides a finger over her bottom lip.

"It's an experiment," he shrugs and trails it down her chin to her swanlike neck.

Her chest heaves in and out nervously panting for air, "Please stop," she whispers.

"Stop?" he chuckles, "nah, you don't want me to stop." His finger glides down dangerously close to her well endowed front and when she doesn't stop him, he playfully glides it south between her breasts. She gasps and he pauses to pull at the bottom of her sweater so that he can slip underneath. "Go ahead," he caresses his fingers over her stomach, "Tell me to stop, T.J.," he whispers seductively.

Her hand darts out to stop his fingers from touching her further and yanks his hand out from her sweater, "_Asshole_," she hisses at him.

But her breathing is labored, short and quick breaths that tell him he's the only one who's ever touched her like this before. This must be what Brooke feels like with Lucas, it's addicting, really it is. He can teach Haley so much, show her what she's missing out on by being such a prude.

He can conquer this quest in place of his obvious failure with Brooke. How could she choose Lucas over him? Was she insane? Pure or not, the guy has no clue what he's doing. But Nathan? It's incorrigible to resist him, just look at Haley.

"Are your parents home?" he utters softly and she turns her face to stare at him. For a few silent seconds he thinks she's actually going to sneak him into her room.

Her mouth opens, "I…" the lights been green for quite some time and as it flicks to yellow and then red again she exhales a deep breath and places his hand back into his own lap. "No they're not home."

His eyes widen.

"But you are _not _coming home with me," she states firmly.

Her patience level is uncanny, most girls her age would have cracked by now. He turns his head to glance into the back seat then looks at her again, "Pretty roomy back there," he grins.

She scoffs in disgust and shakes her head. Then she turns serious, "In a world where you can be anything?"

He blinks at her confused.

"Be yourself, Nathan," she tells him softly. "And if _this_ is really who you are?" she waves at him and shakes her head, "then you definitely need to reevaluate your priorities."

The light turns green and she takes him home without another word.

Or at least until they're one block away from his house and he decides right then to lean over her lap—which earns him a smack and a few harsh words—and wave to someone he knows in the next car over.

Then suddenly it all starts to make sense.

---x---

She's not really paying attention to traffic while driving towards Rachel's house up on Lake Shore Drive. She's way too busy trying to make sense out of her date with Lucas and of the latest fight between Rachel and Owen. But it doesn't matter, because traffic is nonexistent at this time of night anyway.

None of it had gone the way she thought it would. Sure, she had been convinced that she'd seduce Lucas – once she had him for herself it had been easy. But she had enjoyed the night far more than she thought she would. For a night she had almost felt her own age.

And then everything comes crashing down again with this crap between her best friend and the quarterback. Love is a joke. Love is a ridiculous childish feeling that means nothing in the end. Love is a fairytale that ends badly.

Sex, fun and games is the key.

Isn't that what they've decided over and over, both her and Rachel? So why then is this so hard for Raye? It's obvious that Rachel has feelings for Owen. Why doesn't she just play along? All she has to do is say sorry for overreacting and the 'couple' will be almost as good as new. She doesn't have to believe in love to do that, right?

She passes a single car on the empty streets, just at the corner of Glen Meade Road and 17th Street, and she's surprised when she realizes that it's the geeky tutor-girl who's sitting behind the wheel.

She stops at the red-light and the Silver colored Jetta catches up and stops on her right side. Haley –that's her name, right? – seems to arguing with the person in her passenger seat and she looks pissed off. She wonders what a girl like Haley is even doing out and about at this hour on a school-night and for a second, when the person in the passenger seat leans forward, she thinks that it's Nathan next to the tutor.

The head of raven dark hair seems so familiar and her eye catches the blue color from what seems to be a letter-jacket. But she realizes that the thought is stupid.

If the thought of herself and Lucas is ridiculous then the thought of Nathan hooking up with Tutor-girl is a damn joke.

She chuckles dryly to herself and gets ready to speed off as soon as the light turns green.

And that's when the raven-haired guy leans forward again and raises his hand in what seems like an almost unnoticeable wave. Her jaw falls down towards her chest and she just stares back because she just can't fucking believe it.

It's 3 am and Nathan Scott is waving to her from inside tutor-girl's car.

---x---

* * *

**AN**: Long chapter as usual. But if you guys review and tell us what you think we might have chapter 12 up before the weekend is over. ;) Thanks for reading.

Love/ E&L

Ps. Nice to have you back Ellis


	13. Both Sides Of the Gun

**AN: **Another week, another chapter. We're happy that there are both BL and BN fans reading this, it makes it so much more fun for us because then at least we're always pleasing someone. LOL. This time we've tried to answer most questions by PM's to be able to get this up faster. But short summary to all our readers: We love you. And to those who also review: We love you even more. ;) /L & E

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 12: **_Both Sides of the Gun_

**Junior Year**

_**November 26**__**th**__**, 2006**_

For once, she's on time. She even has minutes to spare when she opens her locker and grabs her stuff for double English Lit. Rachel had a test in French and wanted to be here early and for once she got up and came along. Maybe because they hadn't even gone to sleep by the time the alarm went off? Or maybe because she's still in such a great mood from last night…

She should probably be hung over, but if she is, then she's not feeling it. Actually – if she doesn't count the fact that her best friend is miserable – she just feels bouncy and happy. As if the night spent with Lucas gave her a boost of… of energy?

And then all of a sudden she _feels_ him. Just like she usually knows when Nathan is standing right behind her, she senses Lucas even before he nervously clears his throat.

"Uhm…hi…"

She smiles and turns to him. "Hi, _broody_ boy."

He smiles back, looking a little tired. She guesses that he's probably less used to spending a night in a bar than she is. But even so, with his dirt-blonde messy hair, the worn jeans and the grey hoodie, he's just the epitome of _hot_.

"Good to see you up and about," she says cheekily and winks at him. "Was your uncle mad at you when you got in?"

He squints in an adorable way and nods. "A little." Then he seems to find some courage somewhere because he takes a step closer, making the gap between them more intimate. "But it was totally worth it."

The underlying message is clear and she runs a finger down the bridge of his nose. "It was, huh?"

"Yeah."

The whole setting reminds her of last night at Blue Post, when he had her pressed up against the brick wall, and she pulls in a breath and giggles. The sound is weird coming out of her mouth. She sounds like an innocent school girl when in honesty she's far from being that.

"So last night…" he mumbles and pulls his hand through his hair. "It…uh…makes us a couple, right?"

The question is so unexpected that it seriously throws her off. She's not prepared and she stares back at him confused.

"What?"

He blushes. Actually _blushes_ and clears his throat again. Then he leans in and lowers his voice so that the passing students won't hear him.

"I had a great time, Brooke. I think you _know_ that."

Now she's following again and she smirks confidently. _Of course_ he had a great time.

She leans against the locker behind her and bats her eyelashes. She loves how he looks at her all innocently and she bites her bottom lip in order not to tell him that, for a first time, he was brilliant.

Shy? Maybe. Eager to please? _Hell_ yes.

"Anytime, baby…" she tells him huskily and moves the hair out of her eyes with a flick of her neck. His eyes fall to her lips and she's almost shocked when he leans in as if to kiss her. He stops half way though, because _she_ pulls back, momentarily forgetting that it doesn't matter if someone sees them.

Then she remembers and she closes the last inch between them and kisses him.

This boy _isn't_ forbidden fruit.

The kiss is sweet, not passionate like last night. This time he's less rushed and she bets that it's because he's sober and a lot less courageous. Even so, when he pulls back she grins widely. At least until he says it again.

"So are we? A couple?"

How the hell is she going to answer that?

"Yeah… uhm… about that…" she says and smiles awkwardly. "I don't… I'm not really a relationship kinda girl." She shrugs and looks away.

He tilts his head and looks at her curiously. Keeps looking at her until she meets his eyes again.

"Why?" he then asks, as if there's a perfectly simple explanation to her statement.

"Why?"

"Yeah, Brooke. Why?" His voice isn't taunting. Actually he looks like he really wants to know.

_I am not Peyton._

_I know that, Brooke! And you know what else you're not? My _girlfriend.

"I don't know," she shrugs again. "It's not really my thing. Relationships seem to get so messy and complicated." Then she finds herself honestly saying "But I guess I wouldn't know… I've never really tried it."

He smiles. Pushes a strand of her hair away from her face with gentle fingers. "Well I've never really tried it either. What do you say we just see what happens, okay?"

See what happens?

She smiles back, making it look so sincere that he doesn't even see that it's fake. Everyone knows that 'Let's see what happens' is code for 'Let's just kick it and have sex until we get tired of it'.

She should know. She's done it with Nathan for months.

"Like casual dating?" she asks with her signature brow raised. "Friends with benefits?"

"What does that mean?"

Lifting her eyebrow an extra millimeter and smirking, she explains; "Lots of hot sex, random make-out sessions, no obligations…"

He blushes again. "We could also get to know each other better, Brooke. Hang out…"

The weird thing is that he seems serious. His comment isn't followed by him trying to grope her, or asking her if she wants to 'meet up' after school. He doesn't scout around for an empty broom-closet either. He just runs a shy hand down her side and nods down the corridor.

"Maybe I could start by walking you to class?"

When she nods, he takes the books from her hand and holds his arm out to her. Like a perfect gentleman, she thinks and smiles wider.

"So what are you doing after school, Mr. Scott?" she asks and slips her arm under his.

Suddenly the thought of seeing what will happen doesn't sound bad at all.

---x---

_**November 30**__**th**__**, 2006**_

"Nathan?"

His mom's voice echoes through the house and even though the music blasts out of his stereo, he clearly hears it. "Naaathan!"

He's been trying to ignore it but the third time she yells his name, he gives up. Annoyed he turns the old Tupac album off and growls;

"_What_?"

He's not in the mood for her shit today. It's Sunday and he has no 'must do's. No basketball practice. No school that bores him, no whiny Peyton that drives him crazy and no dad to push him out the door and into a six mile run.

He's planned on not doing anything today, other than lay here and be lazy and maybe go over to Tim's house to play x-box for a few hours, but apparently his mom has other ideas.

"I need you to drive me down to Tidal Creek," she calls from downstairs. "Your dad has the BMW, and you know that I hate driving the Porsche."

"I'm busy."

He just wants to be left alone, does that have to be so hard? This 'motherly' act she's been pulling lately is getting on his last nerve. Usually Deb was a good second to Brooke's mom in the race for the 'worst mom of the year'-title, but the last couple of months she's done a complete 180. He wants her to be a better mom, it's not that he doesn't. It's just that the whole charade of them being a happy family is getting a little hard to stomach.

Sometimes he wonders if Brooke and Rachel aren't better off being practically abandoned. At least that way they didn't have to deal with their parents constant fighting and the whole 'pretend' life.

He flips the page of the basketball magazine he's reading and moves to turn the music back on, but once again he gets cut off.

"Nathan Royal Scott! Get your ass up and _into the car_. I'm late for the shift at the café."

She's standing in his doorway now and one look at her face tells him she means business. So he groans and starts to get up, but then he frowns confused. _What café_?

"You're working at a _café_?" he asks and raises his brow. "Where?"

It's probably charity work, he thinks. Not a soup kitchen, that would be pushing it, but some kind of high class bake sale.

But no.

"At Karen's." She sighs and rolls her eyes. "I've told you this Nathan. I'm managing Lucas' mom's café when she's in Europe for a month. Don't you listen to _anything_ I tell you?"

It's apparent that she is growing frustrated but what the hell? _His mom_ is helping the bastard's mom out? It's got to be a fucking joke. Isn't it enough that the guy is in his face in school, at practice and whenever he tries to get to Brooke? Now he'll have to listen to his mom yap about the guy too?

"Do you really have to do that? Dad's not gonna like it."

Another disappointed look and he shuts up. Because as opposed to Brooke and Rachel, he still has to deal with his mother's wrath when he goes too far.

"I'll wait in the car" she says sternly and leaves. And mere seconds later he follows.

So much for a lazy Sunday.

---x---

Brooke skips into Tidal Creek grocery store a couple of feet ahead of Lucas, and she giggles when she sees the awkward expression that's already spreading over his face. She knows that he had found it very embarrassing when she turned the car around, halfway home from the River Court, and bluntly declared that they needed to go buy condoms. For _later_.

She knows that he was shocked and speechless. But this is half the fun.

It's so refreshing with a guy like Lucas. One that actually doesn't have a stack of condoms in his bedside drawer, ready to go. One that didn't even have that _one condom_ in his wallet that he had saved for years just to be prepared if he would get it on with some girl.

In fact, she wonders if he ever planned for that occasion. His wide eyes, that first night when she slipped her shirt over her head and he touched her naked chest, makes her think that he hadn't. But that was five days ago and since then she's woken up his urges for sure. He's still a little too 'nice' and gentle, but they're getting there.

Biting her lip in anticipation for later, she looks back at him.

"I'm gonna go over here" she says and flashes him a bright smile that he shyly returns. Then she happily heads into the aisle that holds what she needs.

She doesn't tease him when he stays behind, circling the register while trying to avoid the eyes of Mrs. Sturman that's been working here since they were kids. Because she knows that this – shopping for contraceptives in broad daylight – is totally off his stress chart.

Why?

Because a week ago, Lucas Scott had still been a virgin.

"Do you want ice cream?" she shouts back, eager to see his cute blush turn crimson. "Ben & Jerry's go well with being naked." She winks, and bang; his cheeks turns red, just like she figured they would.

Lucas shakes his head and looks up into the ceiling. It's like she's doing it on purpose, effortlessly making him feel embarrassed and horny at the same time. Not that she's wrong or anything. He bets that having ice cream with a naked Brooke Davis is as close to heaven as it comes. But does she _have_ to shout it all over the store?

And does she _have to_ look so hot in that sweat-suit? He's a guy after all. A guy that's just been introduced to the awesome world of sex, and she should understand what her actions are causing.

Smiling, he thinks that she probably does.

He plays with some key-chains on a rack and eagerly waits for her to return. But then something happens that's _not_ supposed to happen. Especially not now.

"Lucas?"

At the sound of Deb's voice behind him, he quickly grabs a bag of chips and blushes. Shit. _Not_ good.

"Oh, hey um..."

He scans the store for Brooke and breathes out when he can't see her. The nervousness makes him clumsy and he almost knocks over a stack of chewing gum while trying to look _normal_. Like a guy that's _not_ in Tidal Creek to buy condoms so that he can go home and have sex in the momentarily parent-free house of his.

Now, if only Brooke could stay away until Deb leaves…

"I'm not playing hookie from your mom's café," she says and smiles. "I just ran out of coffee filters."

He nods. "Ok. See you later." _Go away_!

When she doesn't, he turns back towards Mrs. Sturman, ready to pay for a bag of snacks that he doesn't even want, but the hint doesn't help and Deb keeps talking.

"I'm glad we bumped into each other. Haley and I were talking and we thought it might be fun to start up some live entertainment at the café."

"Great."

He nods again. Smiles over his shoulder and prays to god that she'll leave. For a second he feels guilty, he hasn't really hung out with Haley the last couple of days, but Deb looks at him curiously and he tries to focus on what she's saying.

"Are you sure?" she asks and gives him a questioning look. "Because if you think it's a decision your mom should be making, I'll understand."

"No it's…it's a great idea" he presses. "It's good. Good."

God, he sounds like an idiot. And Mrs. Scott must think so as well because she mumbles "Good" with an even more curious look on her face.

"Yeah."

He turns around again, desperately trying to stop the increasingly awkward conversation. It's weird enough that Nathan's mom is in charge of the café while his own mom is in Italy, but having her here right now is a complete night mare. Again he scans the surroundings for Brooke, and just when she asks "Lucas, are you alright?", Brooke jumps out in front of him.

"Hey," she blurts happily and holds a giant box of condoms in front of his face. "Don't you think it makes more sense to buy in bulk?"

Inwardly he groans and wishes that the ground would open up and swallow him. But it doesn't happen. Instead the smile on the dimpled brunette widens. "Plus…" she says huskily and holds up a can of whipped cream, "…for _desert_."

It's official. He's now both horny and totally _screwed_.

He closes his eyes briefly before meeting Deb's eyes over Brooke's shoulder. And finally the girl in front of him catches on and turns around.

The look on her face is one of total surprise.

"Oh, Hi Mrs. Scott," she laughs nervously and backs into his chest.

Deb smirks. "Well, hi Brooke…um…excuse me."

The blonde woman gives him one last look, one that tells him that he's probably in deep shit, and then she walks back into one of the aisles. He lets the breath he's been holding out and it's not until Brooke has paid for the stuff, and they're walking over the parking lot, that his heart-rate starts slowing down.

Brooke however, is much calmer. And while trying to keep up with his fast pace she can't help but wanting to laugh. She gets that he's embarrassed, but seriously, it's all quite hilarious and she can't wait to share this with Rachel. She knows that Rach will have a field day when she tells her about this.

"Of all the things to stick in my mouth" she giggles, "it had to be my foot."

The sexual innuendo seems to pass straight over his head and when he sighs, she flings a hand out to grab his arm. "Lucas, come _on_," she tries. "Hold up."

Apparently _he's_ not seeing the fun in this at all.

"Did you see the look on her face?" he mumbles in agony. "Huh, did you?"

"Yeah, total Judge Judy" she huffs back. "…which is completely ridiculous, considering who _her son_ is."

If Deb only knew half of the things Nathan has done, not only with whipped cream, but probably with half the stuff in the fridge, then she would act so high and mighty. Like that time with the chocolate syrup. She bets that Deb wouldn't look so condescending if she knew about _that_.

Lucas opens the car door on the driver's side, holding it open so that she can get in. "She's friends with my mom" he says seriously and she gasps.

Shit. She didn't think about that.

If Karen finds out that she's corrupting her only son, then she can say bye-bye to ever really being accepted in the Roe household. Not that she knows much about moms that cares, but she guesses that Karen won't appreciate that she's 'de-flowered' Luke. Especially not on their first real date.

"Right…" she mumbles, suddenly feeling remorseful. "I forgot about that one. Well, your mom's in Europe for the next month so what are the odds she remembers this?"

His eyebrow shoots up and an expression of disbelief finds its way into his features.

"Whipped cream and _condoms_?"

The sarcasm is new and it makes him look even more appealing.

God, he's so hot that she wants to pull him into the backseat of her car and have him do her right there in the grocery store parking lot. But then the reality of his words hit and the laugh bubbles up in her chest. His lips twist into a smile as well and she lets the first giggling sound out.

Seconds later they're both leaned against the side of her baby blue beetle, laughing so hard that they can't breathe. She clutches the box of Trojan's in her pocket and loves the thought of 'later', but right then she's perfectly happy with being with Lucas, laughing together like a perfectly _normal_ couple.

Most of all she loves that they don't have to hide.

---x---

He hides in a random aisle until minutes after Brooke and Lucas have disappeared out the entrance, and it's not until a mom with a screaming toddler asks him to reach up and grab something on the top shelf that he realizes that the random aisle is the one with tampons and shit.

Mumbling something incoherent, he gives the woman a box of whatever and hurries away from there.

Condoms, huh? And whipped cream? Great. Just fucking _great_.

He already figured that Brooke was sleeping with Lucas, but getting it shoved into his face like this is about as fun as having a root-canal. It doesn't make his already ruined Sunday the least bit better.

His mom pops up from nowhere and smiles. "There you are, Nathan. Did you see Brooke?"

"No."

The response is quick and full of venom. Actually he wishes that he hadn't seen her because if he hadn't, then his head wouldn't be filled with sudden flashbacks that contained of Brooke's naked writhing body and bottle of Hershey's chocolate syrup. Or maybe he wishes that he had, but that the whipped cream had been for someone else, more specifically; himself.

Right now he's not sure.

"I just met her with Lucas. I didn't know that they were a couple." His mother doesn't say it but he can read the silent questions between the lines. _Does Victoria know this? Are they really a realistic match?_

"Whatever" he mutters and fakes indifference. "Brooke must be really desperate to hang out with that loser. It won't last long."

He starts to walk towards the exit, but Deb puts a hand on his shoulder. Her lips turn into a tense line and she quietly mumbles "I really hope that you and Peyton haven't… I mean, uhm… that you wouldn't…"

"Have sex?" He rolls his eyes and groans, already tired of today's charade. "Mom, think about it. Do you _really_ think that I haven't slept with Peyton? Huh?" Shrugging out of her grip, he laughs dryly. "Get real. She spends three nights a week in my freaking bed."

She makes a hushing sound and desperately looks around to make sure that no one's heard him. And for a second he wonders what she'd say if he told her that he's also slept with a third of the girls in his year and that he's been screwing same said Brooke Davis for months now.

"Whipped cream is for fucking armatures" he mutters and his mother gasps.

"_Nathan_! Watch your language, mister."

Anger bubbles in his chest and he shouldn't take it out on her, he knows that. But the people that he wants to take it out on are currently on their way home to make use of certain purchased items.

"Are you done here?" he snaps instead and he gets rewarded with the third disappointed look of the day. But at least she drops the subject and he goes outside to wait in the car. Because there's a slight risk that his mom will tell him about what Brooke was buying. And the awkwardness of that conversation is seriously more than he can stomach.

The whole thing is awkward enough as it is.

While waiting for his mom to come out, he takes out his phone and texts Peyton. It's time to make peace.

_Sorry for b-ing an ass. Movie + dinner 2nite?_

He figures that Brooke will be busy tonight anyways.

---x---

_**December 2nd **_

She's almost finished. The tables have been cleared, the menus and salt-shakers are sorted and she's almost done with the last dirty dishes when the bell over the entrance suddenly sounds.

And she's just about to tell the customer that they're already closed when Deb calls out a happy "Oh, hi sweetie. I'll be done in five minutes."

Curiously she looks up and sees Nathan walk up to the counter.

"Haley," he acknowledges with a nod and she snorts in response.

_Great_. Wasn't it enough that she had to deal with him during tutor sessions? It's been the longest day, she's worked her ass off trying to get both hers and Deb's work done – because honestly, Nathan's mom has probably never worked a day before in her entire life – and after her last meeting with this guy, seeing him now is on the bottom of her wish-list.

_Jerk_.

She's too tired to play these cat and mouse games with him.

The way she returns his greeting doesn't seem to scare him off though. He tiredly slides up on the barstool in front of her.

"Can I have a soda?" he asks and puts a five dollar bill on the counter. "Please."

She stands rooted for a second but then she sighs and slides it back towards him before grabbing a clean glass. He's actually being semi-polite and it's hard to be cold and dismissing towards a guy that doesn't fire back. Somehow he doesn't seem as evil tonight as he usually does. Maybe he feels bad for drunk-dialing her?

"Coke?" she asks and puts in a couple of ice cubes.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks."

He gives her his trademark lopsided smirk, but it looks fake. He seems tired and 'off'. So when she's placed the soda in front of him and gone back to wiping the clean dishes dry, without him having said anything else, then she has to ask. It's against her nature not to.

"What's up? You look a little low…"

He stirs the ice cubes with the straw and shrugs. "Naw, I'm cool."

"Up late last night? Hung over again?" This time she adds a sarcastic smile but if he sees it, he's not acknowledging it.

This is when she should just leave him alone. Go back to closing up Karen's café and not put her nose in business that will only bring her trouble. But it's so obvious that he's lying. The way he hangs his head and absentmindedly plays with his car-keys as if he can't relax, it all tells her that there is something on the otherwise so cocky guy's mind.

"It's not school, is it?" she presses. "I spoke to Mr. Mitchell and he said that the score on your Algebra was a big improvement from the last one."

"Yeah," he nods. "Thanks to your notes on general inverse elements. But I'm flunking Chem."

He says it as if he doesn't care and she almost shivers. Flunking _anything_ is her biggest nightmare, and he's acting like it's not important at all. She reaches for a clean towel and mutters out a silent "Figures…"

"What do you mean?"

She busies herself with drying the china and curses that fact that she can never stay silent. Lucas teases her for it all the time. Calls her an incorrigible blabbermouth.

"Well…" she starts, biting her lip. She's about as bad at lying as she is of keeping her mouth shut, so she might as well be honest. "You're partnering with Brooke in Chemistry, aren't you?"

She can barely hide the bitterness in her voice when mentioning the Cheer-captain and for the first time Nathan looks up to meet her eyes. His face turns into a mix of defensiveness and… paranoia?

"And?" he snorts with a raised brow. "So what?"

She flinches slightly at the edge in his voice and once again she makes a mental note to not just blurt stuff out. Nathan and Brooke are _friends_. They're the same, both bread and raised in the world of the elite, and she should know better than to show her dislike of the brunette in front of him.

"I…uhm…" she says and swallows. "I just meant that… um… _studying_ might not be on the top of Brooke's list of priorities, right?"

At this he actually chuckles. And for a second something close to a genuine smile graces his otherwise set jawline.

"I guess not" he answers before the shadow falls back over his face. "But she's switched to partnering with _Lucas_, so I bet she won't have to worry about that. Loner-boy will do her homework for her."

With Deb still nowhere in sight, she goes against here better judgment and sits down across from Nathan at the counter. She nurses her lukewarm cup of coffee and contemplates the information he's just given her.

"Lucas wouldn't do that" she says, but in the back of her head she wonders. Her best friend is totally love-struck and after her conversation with him in school just the other day, she wonders if he's lost all sense.

Lucas Scott and Brooke Davis. The whole thing is _ridiculous_. A girl like that belongs with a guy like… like Nathan.

"Besides" she adds, "this is probably a good thing. If you're going to take your studies seriously this semester, then you would have had to switch anyways." She puts her chin in her hand and nods reassuringly. "It can't be worse, right? Who's your new lab-partner?"

Suddenly his cute grin is back and she smiles back for a second before her facial expression freezes. Heck, no! She did _not_ just think of Nathan Scott as _cute_!

"Actually I think I'm even better off than Davis…" he chuckles as if he's noticed her stiff posture. And when he leans in a little over the counter, she gets even more worried, because his movement causes her to suck in a quick breath.

"Wh…why?" she stutters and clutches her coffee mug, refusing to let the thought in her mind run free.

_He looks good… he looks so freaking dangerously good…_

"Because" he mumbles and his voice deepens to a softer level, "my new Chem lab-partner… is _you_."

Her heart plummets straight down into her stomach. This is the _one_ thing that's not supposed to happen. Tutoring Nathan in secret is one thing, even talking to him like this in the café. But if she partners up with Nathan in Chemistry, then it will only be a matter of time before Lucas finds out that she never stopped the tutoring sessions and that she actually doesn't _hate_ the brown-haired Scott brother as much as she would like.

But just when she gets ready to protest and tell Nathan that there must have been a mistake somewhere, then Deb pops her head through the kitchen door and declares that she's ready to go.

"You'll lock up, won't you Haley," the blonde woman asks and smiles warmly. "And thank you so much for today. Karen is lucky to have you."

Dumbstruck she just nods. And Nathan gets up from his chair and winks at her, _flirts with her, _as if she's one of the popular girls.

"I'll see you around, James…" he smirks and she lets out an incoherent sound that is supposed to be "Yeah, see you".

When the door closes to Karen's café, Haley lets her face fall into her palms and she groans out loud.

This is not good. She's lying to Lucas, playing with fire and acting like a complete idiot.

It's just that right now; lying seems like the only _comfortable_ choice.

---x---

_**December 5**__**th**_

_Where r u?_

_Home. _

_Come over. _

_I'm busy._

_Busy at home?_

_Yeah. _

Nathan stares down at his phone and wonders just what in the hell Brooke could possibly be doing at home. It's the beginning of December which means her parents have jumped ship to warmer climates. She wont see them again until she's forced to fly across the globe for a Christmas reunion. That is, if they remember to invite her this time.

_Bullshit._ He texts back and slips his phone into his back pocket. He's not going to sit around his house thinking about her. He refuses. It's supposed to be the other way around anyways. She's supposed to desperately be seeking him, it's what any other girl would do.

So how come Brooke and Haley seem to be immune?

"Yo," Owen answers when Nathan calls him.

"O," he replies grateful, "what up?"

"Nuthin'. Watching TV at the crib," he says.

"You still not talking to Rachel?"

He asks more for the sake of conversation than for actual curiosity. Anyone with half a brain can easily figure out that Owen and Rachel are still not on good terms. And if Rachel's mood the past week wouldn't have said it so clearly, then the sigh from Owen says it all.

"Nope. She's still giving me the silent treatment."

Someone says something in the background and Owen mutters back a tired, "Shut _up_, man. I told you to leave it alone." Then, suddenly back on the line, he grunts, "Prep, what do you say about grabbing a beer? Or five? I need to get out of this fucking house before these guys drive me insane."

"You want me to come up to you or are you driving down here?" he asks while getting up. And when Owen suggests a bar in Benson, somewhere halfway in between, he slides his fake ID into his back pocket before grabbing his car-keys.

"I'll see you there in about an hour," he mutters right before Owen yells something at one of his frat-brothers and hangs up.

54 minutes, and one stop at a gas-station later, he gets out of his car in front of a place that looks like a strip-club. He spots Owen leaning against his big black truck a couple of parking squares to his left and he realizes that the fake ID is unnecessary. This is hardly a place that gives a shit about abiding the law.

Owen pushes off the hood of the truck and walks over. They silently clasp hands in greeting and then without talking they walk into the club. And it's not until after they both downed their first beer that he dares to talk to the quarterback.

"Peyton's being a bitch," he mutters and spins the bottle between his hands, "and that tutor girl won't even sleep with me."

Owen looks up and frowns. "What tutor-girl? And why don't you just stick with Brooke?"

"Because _she_ won't stick with _me_."

He sounds like a spoiled kid, he can hear it himself. But it's like he's been dying to whine to someone about this and maybe Owen needs an outlet as well? After all, Owen is the only person he can talk to about Brooke – but just the same; Owens buddies don't know Rachel the way Nathan does so maybe Owen needs to vent as well?

They could trade. It'd be a freaking win-win situation. Right?

"Tell me about it…" Owen mutters and chugs down half his second beer in one go. "I swear, those two girls are way too screwed up. Sometimes I wonder what the fuck happen–"

"Hey, O. Did you and Rachel break up?"

It just dawns on him that this is the first time since Rachel started seeing Owen that they're not _fighting_. Usually arguments between the redhead and the quarterback are very loud and clear, louder than his own with Peyton, and this time he realizes that he hasn't even seen them fight. He hasn't seen them together at all during the last week, period.

Owen pushes the empty bottle away from him before signaling for a new one.

"I don't know," he shrugs, "I mean, it's kinda hard to break up a relationship that didn't exist, don't you think?"

The question-mark at the end of his sentence is clearly sarcastic and Nathan frowns and sinks back the remains of his own drink. He guesses that Owen is referring to Rachel's phobia of 'labels'. Its no secret that Brooke's redheaded best friend is scared shitless of commitment. But so what? It's not like Owen's been complaining before.

"So Raye doesn't want to have a relationship? Big deal…" he mutters and clunks the bottle onto the counter. "She's giving you pussy, right? Man, be _happy_. Girlfriends…" he raises his eyebrow for emphasis, "equals drama."

"That simple huh?" Owen snorts and for a second Nathan is sure that the older guy is agreeing with him. But then Owen gives him a look that borders on condescending and mumbles something that sounds like "You're such a fucking kid sometimes…" but the music is getting louder and he can't be sure.

"What was that?" he asks while waving to the bartender for shots and Owen rolls his eyes.

"Peyton or Brooke?" the quarterback grunts.

"Huh?"

Nathan feels confused but Owen shakes his head and makes a second roll of his eyes.

"Stay focused, Prep," he mutters. "When you say that girlfriends equals drama; do you mean Peyton or Davis?"

"Peyton of course." Nathan says, turning back to Owen, "You know that Brooke and me have never been serious. We don't do titles."

"Brooke _and I_," Owen corrects, "and now you're sounding like Raye."

"Yeah? Well you sound like my freakin' _tutor_."

What the hell's wrong with the guy? Weren't they here to get drunk and talk about the current 'complications?' Then why does it feel like Owen is disappointed in him?

He's about to ask what the fuck's going on but just when he opens his mouth, then the shots arrive and after knocking back the amber colored liquid, Owen rubs his face and frowns, beating him to the chase. "Speaking of Brooke…" the older guy grunts and plays with his drink coaster, "If you ever change your mind about that, then don't ever tell her you love her. It'll just ruin everything."

"That what you did?"

Owen looks up. "Yeah, and I'm pretty sure that it was a mistake."

"But—"

"Maybe you high school boys got it right," he snorts and stares down at the bottom of his empty shot glass, "maybe being a hardheaded dick is really what a girl wants. She don't want that sweet and sensitive chump. She wants someone who will fight with her," he chuckles bitterly, "call her on her shit. Insult her every now and again just to piss her off…"

Nathan hesitates to say anything and when Owen turns to glare at him he finds that he has no words to begin with. Especially not when Owen concludes;

"Maybe I should just be like _you_."

---x---

Brooke's not really avoiding Nathan. Honestly, she's _not_. She's just busy hanging out with Lucas.

And he's so different from his brother. Where Nathan is dark and twisted, Luke is bright and decent. Nathan plays games and Lucas just moves about in life as if he hasn't a care in the world. But Brooke knows better and she tries so hard to remember what life was like before she did.

She _likes _being around Lucas and his annoying friends. Because Mouth, Junk, and Skills are definite upgrades from Tim, Fede and Vegas. She likes to watch Lucas at the Rivercourt and sit beside Mouth while he shouts out his hilarious commentaries. If it had been Nathan that she was trying to 'date' she'd be at his house watching Tim shove different objects up his nose while Nathan shouted out at whatever game was playing on ESPN.

Before Brooke, Lucas found company in the characters of the books he read from authors like Steinbeck, Faulkner, and E.E. Cummings. That means that he can pretty much summon their words to suit any occasion, and he often does. She loves that about him, his mind is incredibly bright and his heart is unbelievably kind. She can listen to him talk for hours without ever having said a word and still feel as if he's listening to her.

But he doesn't _know _her.

She wishes she could say he did, that he understood her completely and without conflict. But she's still trapped behind the gates she's had up since forever and just the thought of him scaling those walls frightens her. It's almost enough to send her running in the opposite direction.

She has to let him in eventually. Doesn't she? Maybe she can open the door a crack, see how it goes and if she's comfortable enough, she'll invite him in. Or she can slam the door shut in his face. She has to compromise, because he's such an open book for her and she knows she's testing the limits with him. He can only allow her to be closed off for so long before he starts to pry and ask questions of his own.

Just like he is now as they lay in the grass at the Rivercourt, staring up at the clouds in the sky. An untouched picnic basket sits two feet away by her but she's starving for something that's not food. She craves his touch. Caught in the moment she pulls his hand to her chest and lays his palm flat on her collar bone. He continues to tell her a story about his childhood and once again she's trying to distract him.

Because she knows what going to come next. He's going to turn his head and look at her with those big blue eyes of his and ask her to tell him something. He _always _does that and she hates that she has to lie and make up a story every time he does. She _hates _lying to him.

But some lies are best left alone.

There are things in her life that she can't quite come to terms with. Like Nathan. She knows she has to let him go but like a stubborn child, she refuses. He's fun and convenient. Most of all, he doesn't ask her personal questions about her childhood or about her parents. But then again, that could be because he already knows all the answers. That's what happens when you've known someone for so long.

Damn him.

"So tell me something," Lucas turns his head on the blanket and sets his deep heart racing eyes on her, "tell me a story about when you were little." His fingers slide from her skin to her hair and he rolls his whole body to the side and rests on his elbow.

"Not much to tell, really," she says staring up at the cotton candy clouds in the sea of baby blue. "My life is boring, anyways," she sighs and rolls to face him, "so why don't you help me make it more interesting?" her eyes sparkle as she bites the corner of her lip and leans up to kiss him.

"Tell me a story about you first," he whispers against her lips, "and maybe I will…" his fingers trickle up her spine beneath her sweater and play with the little clasp at the back her fancy black brassier.

She shivers into his hand and closes her eyes, "Okay," she replies and lifts her lashes. "Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Brooke," she starts with a smirk.

His hand slides away from her and he rolls to his back with a frown, "I mean a _real _story, Brooke." His grimace deepens.

She panics when he starts to shut her out and quickly she grabs his hand and places it on her face, "I don't have any stories, Lucas." She admits to him, "Not any worth telling, anyways." She moves his palm to her mouth and kisses it.

His eyes grow concerned and he draws her to rest against his chest, "I just want to know you, pretty girl." He tells her and presses his lips to her forehead.

She quickly moves to straddle him and playfully grins, "So get to know me then." Her face bends down closer to capture his mouth with hers.

His hands grip her thighs and even though he wanted to make this moment meaningful, he can't deny the physical attraction they share. Maybe that's how all great loves start out, he thinks. Through heat and lightening. Their bodies create the heat and their intense chemistry…

Well, that's obviously the _lightening._

---x---

_**December 7**__**th**_

"So basically, what you're saying is that you're sleeping with Brooke Davis–just _casually_–and you're both just going to see where this _goes_?"

Haley arcs her brow and gives him a smirk that seems to say '_that's ridiculous and you know it_' and he shrugs.

"That's not what I said."

Its lunchtime and the majority of Tree Hill high's students are in the cafeteria so they are pretty much alone out by the pick-nick tables in the schoolyard. He's finally had the guts to tell his best friend that his virginity is out the window and a part of him had hoped that her reaction would be different.

Shocked, he was prepared for. A little uncomfortable too. But he honestly didn't think she'd be this annoyed. It seems like she's almost taking it personally.

"All I said was that Brooke wants to take it slow," he adds and squints against the bright sun. "She's not used to being in a relationship."

Haley laughs dryly.

"You're kidding right?" she scoffs. "She can have sex with you but she wants to wait with being called a '_girlfriend'_? Hah! That's rich even coming from her kind."

He frowns now. It's hard to explain to Haley how it makes him feel to spend time with Brooke. That she makes him laugh and do spontaneous things that are far from his usual self. That he feels different around her and that he actually enjoys the attention that the dimpled brunette has showered him with lately.

"Her kind?" he asks, even though he knows exactly what she means. Just a couple of weeks ago he had thought the same. _Her kind_ meant people like Brooke – like Nathan and like Morgan Finley. But Brooke isn't like the rest of them. Actually he's starting to think that Brooke Davis is misunderstood.

"Yes," Haley mutters and bites a big chunk from her apple. "Sche ish eckshackly –" she chews, "Like Morgan."

"Huh?"

The eye-roll is expected. "Like Morgan Finley, Lucas. Cheerleader, popular, without scruples." She makes motion with her hand to show that the list goes on and on. "She's not a nice person and you shouldn't let her play around with you."

He sighs and pats his friend's back. This is going nowhere.

"Okay, Hales," he mumbles tiredly and starts to get up. He's supposed to meet Brooke by the lockers at 1:15 and he needs to get going. "I just thought that you wanted to know what's going on in my life."

Her brown eyes flick down to her hands in her lap and she looks a little guilty.

"It's not that," she tries to explain but he smiles towards her to show her that he's not angry. As a matter of fact, he understands her. Haley doesn't know Brooke. She's never seen the nice sides of the brunette in question and he understands her worry. As soon as he introduced them to each other properly, she'd see what he meant.

"It's okay Hales," he says sincerely. "I get it. But give her a chance, alright?"

Haley nods and he ruffles her hair.

"How about some mini-golf tonight?" he asks playfully and this time there's a smile on her face.

"You bet."

---x---

The sound of sneakers squeaking, bouncing basketballs and loud shouts from the practicing Raven players, is all she hears as she and her squad stretch before their own practice. Brooke loves this part most because it's the only time she can openly stare at the guys without much complaint from her team. Plus, she loves teasing the guys when she stretches, because it never fails to distract them.

"So," Peyton starts as she slides her hands down her shins to touch her feet beside Brooke, "you and Lucas, huh?"

Brooke shrugs from her upside down position and hides the tiny smirk that threatens to take over her face. "What do you mean," she pulls her body back up and stretches her arms out above her head.

"Come on, Brooke. It's all over school," Peyton rolls her eyes.

"I dunno," she sighs, "I mean we're taking things slow, you know? To see where it goes, but for now it's just… it is what it is."

Peyton gives her a quizzical stare that makes her laugh.

"Since when do _you _take it slow with a guy?" Peyton snorts and bends her knee. "Don't even try to stand there and tell me that you haven't tapped that yet."

"A girl does not kiss and tell," she chuckles huskily in the back of her throat. "But I will tell you this," she leans in closer to her friend, "it was a night to remember."

"Well you sure do move fast, now don't you? What happened to taking things slow?" she snorts.

"Rrraow!" Brooke cat calls, "Chill goldilocks, you said it was cool if I went for him."

"I said I didn't care," she rolls her eyes and squares her hips so that she turn and stretch her back muscles, "not that it was cool."

"What the hell does that mean?" Brooke stops what she's doing to stare down at Peyton.

"It means," she twists around to face the brunette, "that you can play house with him as long as you want. But you'll never change, Brooke. I know you and I know what you're doing. Try to remember that you and him is a mistake. You're a wolf in sheep's clothing, B. Davis, don't try to be something you're not."

Brooke stares back at Peyton hurt and blinks away the wave of sadness that touches her when she starts to believe the blondes words. "Why would you say something like that to me?" she asks.

"It is what it is," she mocks Brooke's earlier statement with a smirk. "Look, I'm just bringing to light what you're trying to hide. You and Lucas? It's bullshit. You're too much for him to handle, Brooke. I can't help it if I'm saying something you don't want to hear. But isn't telling the truth something a best friend is _supposed _to say? No matter what?"

"Yeah, but being a bitch while doing so is _not_," Rachel comes to Brooke's rescue, "careful, Peyton. Your jealousy is showing." She smirks.

"No," she shakes her head and scowls, "that would be your tits. Ever heard of a sports bra, Rachel? Because going commando both down low and up top is not acceptable when you're going to be bouncing around for dance routines."

"You sure are offly concerned about my body, Peyton," she chuckles in return, "do we need to go back over how I'm not interested? I know it's hard to grasp, but it's never going to happen between you and me. If anything? I'd fuck Brooke _and _Bevin before I even looked at you in that way. Hell, I'd take that freaky gothic girl Glenda before you!"

"Dream on, your Raggedy-Anne looking bitch!" Peyton flies forward to push Rachel but gets intercepted by Brooke who slips in between them to hold her back. "Get off me!" she hisses and fights against Brooke's arms.

"Get the fuck out of here, Peyton. You're being a major bitch today and I don't want you poisoning my squad today." She warns her.

Peyton's gaze narrows at Brooke and she's about to snap when suddenly Whitey's voice booms throughout the gym.

"Nathan Scott! Get your scrawny ass over here!" he shouts as he appears from out his office. "Boy, I outta put my foot in your ass right now!"

Brooke blinks in confusion and she releases her hold on Peyton's forearms to turn and watch the drama unfold.

"What?" Nathan sighs in annoyance and pushes the ball under his arm.

"Don't '_what_'me, Nathan. Your teacher's just come to my office to tell me that your grades are slipping in Chemistry." He shakes his head. "As well as your English and History classes. Wanna tell me how you've gone from a B average to a D?"

_Shit_. Nathan thinks to himself as his eyes travel the watching faces around him. He'd been trying to damn hard to make Haley believe he was failing that he'd forgot how it would affect his spot on the team. But he was Nathan Scott, no way would Whitey bench him.

"You're benched until you pull your grades up, Nathan," Whitey snaps. "Lucas," he points to the blonde Scott, "you'll be playing in his spot until then."

"Coach!" Nathan shouts in surprise, "you can't be serious!"

"Do I look like I like to play games, Mr. Scott? Now you can continue to attend practice and wear a suit on game days but your feet will not touch that court during play time until I see results in your grades. Are we clear?" he asks.

"This is bullshit," Nathan scowls and turns his hateful gaze at Lucas, "no way can you even begin to compare to me. _Especially _on this court," he spits.

Lucas returns his glare, "Really? Cuz I sure had you beat that day on the Rivercourt."

"_Ohhhhhh!_" the team shouts and Nathan almost charges forward.

"Enough!" Whitey intervenes. "Both of you, I won't go through this again. Get back to practice and Nathan," he points a finger, "I will not be influenced by that father of yours. So it's no use crying home to daddy about this."

Nathan's anger boils hotter.

"Now get your butt back at practice," he shakes his head.

But Nathan shakes his head and backs away, "Fuck this," he scowls, "I'm out of here." He snaps and storms across the gym to slam his out the double doors.

A small gasp works its way past Brooke's lips and she turns from the door to Peyton, "You should go talk to him," she says.

"Yeah," Peyton scoffs, "_that's _what I'm gonna do." She rolls her eyes and chuckles to herself as she picks up her gym bag and leaves out the other side of the gym.

Brooke looks at Rachel and she merely shakes her head. She doesn't like the look of concern in the brunettes eyes. Then Brooke's gaze flicks to Lucas who is watching the door Peyton just exited from.

So she doesn't feel so bad when her eyes travel back to the door Nathan walked through.

---x---

_**December 9**__**th**_

She's not quite sure how she knows where he's going to be but the second she turns the corner there he is. Just as predicted. But he looks upset and given the fact that just the night before Lucas had made the winning shot (_again_), she's pretty sure Dan is really laying into him.

"Don't you even think about it," Rachel's voice come out of nowhere and Brooke all but jumps ten feet in the air.

"You are pure evil!" she shrieks, "Only someone with snake-like tendencies can sneak up on people so effortlessly and scare the shit of them."

Rachel rolls her eyes, "Don't change the subject."

"What?" Brooke sighs, "What is it _now_ Rachel?"

"He's with Peyton again," she replies matter-of-fact.

Brooke blink and takes a step back confused, "When…"

"Just after fifth period I believe. Then again you wouldn't know because you were too busy sucking the face off—"

"Then why does he look so miserable?" she asks aloud and instantly regrets it because of the look that slides over Rachel's features. "I just meant, you know… he looks…"

"Do not finish that sentence," Rachel scowls. "I get that he's a hot piece of ass and all but that by no means gives you clout for sympathy, Brooke! What's next? You going to buy him a card to cheer him up?" she scoffs, "How _tutor girl _of you."

Her cheeks instantly flush red, "And why is Bitch so a _fucking_ Rachel right now?" she sneers back at the taller girl. Just an hour earlier she had been annoyingly irritated when finding out that Nathan and Haley had partnered up in Chem and she hates that Rachel had picked up on her mood-change so easily.

"I'm just warning you B," Rachel's tone softens, "it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt. And in this case? It's going to be you, because Nathan doesn't care about anyone but himself. I understand that he's a lot of fun when its just you and him but just remember to keep it simple."

Brooke rolls her eyes and crosses her arms across her chest. She cannot believe Rachel is actually giving her a damn lecture. "Simple," she snorts.

"Yes," the redhead nods, "it's _very _simple, Brooke. Fuck Nathan, cuddle with Lucas. Do you see the distinction?" she holds both her hands palm side up as she weighs them up and down like a scale. "It's a win-win, B," she scoffs sarcastically, "Best of both worlds, right?"

Her friend sounds unusually bitter and for the millionth time the last couple of days Brooke wishes that a certain Duke quarterback could fix things.

"Raye, I know that things suck between you and Ow–"

"This has _nothing_ to do with Owen. I'm just trying to make you remember that life isn't about hallmark cards and hot pink hearts, okay? Boys are–"

She interrupts Rachel with a loud sigh. "Boys are commodities. Accessories like handbags or sunglasses…" She rolls her eyes and tries to not get snappy. "All I'm saying is that if you want me to talk to Owen, I will."

For a second Rachel looks sad but then she shakes her head. "Its fine Brooke, play with your boys and have your fun because you never know how long it's going to last." She send Nathan a quick look and then she repeats, "Just keep it simple," this time a little harsher. "That way you won't have to deal with all the crap." Then she starts walking down the hall towards the parking lot.

"Rachel, come on," she tries but the redhead just waves without turning. "See ya later, B…" she singsongs and seconds later she rounds the corner and disappears.

Her heels echo against the walls and bring Nathan's head snapping upwards form his locker. He turns around and spots Brooke standing over by the water fountain. He stares at her and she shrugs before bending over to get a drink.

He shoves his books into his locker then slams it shut and jogs up to join her. She continues to gulp water as if she's dying of thirst and its then that he realizes she looks nervous. The very thought of a nervous Brooke brings a chuckle to his lips and he shakes his head at the absurd idea.

Glancing over his shoulder he sees no one else in sight and takes advantage of this opportunity. His hand slides down her back and stops where her hair ends to bunch it up in his hand, he give a slight tug and her head flies up. Her eyes narrow and when she lifts a hand to wipe away the water around her mouth he dips downward and licks it away right before devouring her lips.

Her school bag slides free from her shoulder and falls to the floor but she doesn't move to pick it up because now Nathan has her pinned against the wall. His breath is hot against her mouth and she welcomes it because no one can make her knees buckle like him. Not even Lucas, though she _is _working on that.

But until then…

_Fuck Nathan, cuddle with Lucas... It's a win-win, B._

"Closet," she whispers against his lips and walks backwards as he pushes her towards the janitor's room. It's tacky and it's all kinds of twisted, but he makes her so fucking horny sometimes that she'd fuck him in a room full of watching people if she had to.

"Aren't you with Lucas?" he chuckles into her ear and teases her by pulling at her earring with his teeth.

"Like you fucking care," she grunts and winces when he shoves her against the door and the handle digs into her back. "Are you really back with Peyton?" she mumbles over his lips.

"Does it matter?" he says turning the knob and pushing her inside.

"You know it does," she pushes him away from her. "Nathan, you know our deal. There are rules."

"Yeah," he nods with his eyes glues to her lips, "I know the details," he replies and places a hand on her hip to pull her towards him. "I also remember you saying you don't do relationships…" his finger curls in her belt loop and tugs gently.

_What if you have a boyfriend?_

_Pshh… Me? Having a boyfriend?_

"If you can break the rules," his grin should be illegal, "then why can't I?" he whispers against her lips and she hates that she opens her mouth to him and pulls him closer until she's smashed against him.

"No, wait," she shoves him away breathless. "That was never a rule, it was just an assumption. And for your information; Lucas is not my boyfriend."

He laughs and tries to kiss her again.

"No, I mean it," she slaps his hands away from her. "Me and Lucas are having fun. I haven't promised him anything. Are you _with_ her or not? Rachel said—"

"_Rachel said_…" he mocks her. "Oh so it must be true then, because _Rachel _said so." He scoffs. "Cut the cord, Brooke. She's not your mother."

She hates how arrogant he is. Especially when she's fighting not to let him charm his way into her pants. He never has to try very hard, he's like a bar of chocolate. Irresistible and bad for her health.

"Are you with her or not—"

"No!" he shouts, "Fuck, I'm not with Peyton, okay? She was hinting around at it but I sidestepped it. I walked her to class and told her I'd call her later. That was _it_. Okay? Is that good enough for you?"

She's still not sure and she crosses her arms to stare at him skeptically.

"What about you and the loser, huh? I mean come on, Brooke. You _can't _be serious." He chuckles. "The guy makes Steve Urkel look like George Clooney."

"You are so stupid," she laughs at his joke. She _hates _that she's laughed at his _stupid, stupid _joke. Because he's just dissed Lucas and the smirk that he wears after saying the words just manages to turn her on even more.

"Look what you do to me girl," he shakes his head at her and once again pulls her forward by her belt loops. "Come're," he mutters and slowly she steps closer and closer until he dips his head down and presses his lips to hers.

It starts soft, slow lip presses and then his tongue slides out across her lips and she opens her mouth to let him in. Then their kisses are heated and hungry, she bunches his shirt in her hands and crushes herself against his chest. He hugs her against him and slides his hands down to cup her ass and give it a firm squeeze that makes her yelp against his lips.

"You can't tell me he makes you feel like this," he says as his hand slips under her jean skirt to pull her panties down her thighs. "Tell me how badly you want this," he says teasing her with his thumb.

Her breath catches in her throat and she buries her face in his shoulder as a pleasure filled moan erupts out past her cherry flavored lips. She tells him _exactly_ how badly she wants it, she even tells him _how _she wants it just before pulling his shirt up over his head and dropping it to the floor beside her own.

"Don't be such a tease," she growls and yanks him back to her mouth with her hands on his face, "hurry up and fuck me."

His fingers tangle in her hair as she rips off his belt and then he turns them around so that he can press her back against the door. "Someone's in a hurry," he grins down at her and lifts her leg up against his hip, "smile pretty for me, baby," he mutters against her lips just before he plunges into her.

Her moans are loud enough to wake the dead and he loves every minute of it. Because watching her head fall back lustfully as she meets him thrust for thrust, it's all just a huge reassurance to him…

Lucas doesn't stand a chance.

**---x---**

**AN:** That's it for this week. Do you guys hates us for making the chapters so long? Should we make them shorter?

'Til next week ;)


	14. Fall Into The Rabbithole

**AN: **Hello! It's that time again! Another Friday, another update. We'd just like to take this time to thank those who came back around to leave a review when the site got fixed. We think that is just so freaking awesome. So thank you **Fire Tears X, AllBrathan, SweetNJuicyX0 & Yana**! You guys are fucking rockstars. If you came back to review and we missed your name let us know and you'll get a shout out next update. And for those of you who reviewed before, after or whatever—you guys effing rock as well!

Also, big news (sorry to make this AN so freaking long!), if you have an LJ **please join the Comfortable Liar LJ Community**. It's still a work in progress but you can get icons featuring the cast of this fic and music playlists, web graphics, update status, notes, polls—and not to mention random declarations of adoration being passed back and forth between Lynn and I (yes, beware, we can get crazy). The link is in our profile, hope to see you there!

P.S. in case you guys didn't already know? **Lynn is the shiznit and I heart her**, she thinks I'm going to put what she wanted to say but no. This one goes out to her. Who else can put up with all my random scenes and still want to write a fic with me??? I love you baby Brooke! ;)

---x---

**Comfortable Liar**

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 13: **_Fall Into The Rabbit-hole_

**Junior Year**

_**December 14**__**th**_

It's weird. A couple of weeks ago he had never even talked to a cheerleader, and now Lucas is sitting in the midst of them all. He sits enjoying lunch with the most popular one resting between his spread legs on the bench.

Brooke plays absentmindedly with the hair at his neck and he feeds her one of his French fries and listens while one of Brooke's cheerleaders grumbles about something her boyfriend did.

"…and I told him stop fucking with my things," the girl—he thinks her name is… _Ashely?_—snaps then Brooke laughs and says she's overreacting. "He washed my _Marlene Birger_ with his football stuff and I'm telling you, it's freaking ruined!"

He doesn't know what, or possibly _who_, Marlene Birger is, but he adds 'not do laundry' to the mental list of what a boyfriend shouldn't do. If he's going to have a shot at ever being Brooke's boyfriend he needs all the info he can get because this is all new territory to him.

Brooke gasps, "No he _didn't!_" and launches into a rant about the importance of dry-cleaning, and he looks up and scans the people that hurry back and forth over the quad.

Over Brooke's shoulder he has a clear view of Peyton and he quietly observes her. The curly blonde is busy sketching and she doesn't take part of in the friendly banter that goes back and forth between Brooke and her girls. Although truthfully, Rachel's been offly quiet these past few days. But it's Peyton who stands out more, because she's never usually seen talking to the other girls. She just seems somewhat out of place. Less happy, kind of faded and blurry.

It's weird to him because he always thought that he somehow knew Peyton. He had seen her as this serious and interesting girl that he could connect with on a deeper level. He had felt like she stood above all the nonsense of cheerleading and popularity and if he's truthful with himself, then all of this probably stemmed from him having had a crush on Peyton Sawyer since freshman year.

He almost chuckles out loud when he thinks of how he nourished that crush – despite the fact she never returned a single one of his smiles or shy 'hello's. Honestly, to say that she's even looked at him with any sort of interest would probably be pushing it, but since he joined the team, things seem to have changed. Around the same time that he made that winning shot, Peyton started to warm up.

Not that she had thrown herself at him or anything like that. It was more like she had at least noticed that he existed and he took that chance to cram himself into her life. Stupid maybe, but after his first successful game, when he found Brooke Davis in his car, his confidence got a boost – after all, not every guy got a personal, _naked_, welcoming to the team by the Cheer Captain, and maybe that had been the extra push he needed.

So he had taken that newfound confidence and flirted with Peyton the best he knew how, but she was lukewarm in her response at best. It didn't surprise him and he had gone back to crushing on her from a distance. Deep down he realized that it was shallow anyhow, the fact that she never had taken interest in him before, but it still wasn't enough to kick the habit of liking Peyton Sawyer. Maybe he'd simply done it too long. Like a bad habit he just can't kick.

And then everything came to a point at the banquet held at Nathan's house, when Peyton suddenly pulled him into a guestroom and kissed him. The whole thing took him off guard and for a second he thought he was getting what he had wanted for so long. But then the rug got pulled out from under his feet and Peyton had just left him standing.

"_I want to have everything with you. I want it all. I want us, Peyton."_

"_This isn't supposed to be that."_

"_But Peyton…"_

"_No Lucas… Why couldn't you just leave it alone?"_

He had told her what he felt and it had been painfully obvious that she didn't feel the same.

Now, weeks later, he's not sure _what_ he had been feeling in the first place.

Because Brooke is the girl in his life now. A whirlwind of energy, beauty and intelligence. She's exotic like a fresh breath of air. And sitting here in the quad, with Brooke comfortably sitting in his lap, he wonders if the whole thing with liking Peyton had just been a fixed idea in his head. A complete figment of his imagination. Something—or _someone _he had made up in order to help get him through hard times.

Because in his mind she was perfect. She listened when he talked, held his head to her chest full of concern when he was sad. In his own sweet little fantasy she opened her eyes and only saw him. When they kiss it would be electric and with eyes shut tight and mouths locked together they could create sparks.

Lucas is old enough now to see just how young he'd been when he had first come up with these adolescent ideas head. No girl is that perfect.

Not even Peyton.

A girl he'd only chosen as the object of his obsession because she was the only one who didn't laugh at him when Nathan stepped onto the back of his sneaker and tripped him in the lunch room the first day of seventh grade. His tray had gone flying up high above his head going one way as his body slide across the floor in another. Everything had moved so slow in that moment, the laughter of his peers, the pointing fingers and snickers behind hands.

But not Peyton. She just looked sad. And even though he doesn't know if she was sad for him or sad about something else, all he knew was that while everyone else was laughing…

She was not.

But that was years ago and since then he has pushed the thoughts of Peyton fully to the side. Especially since after the banquet where she'd left him standing there like the prince in Cinderella while she rushed away. But she'd left behind no glass slipper and he swears that when she left the room she took his heart with her.

Sad thing is, he was pretty sure she'd dumped it into the nearest trash bin shortly afterwards. With no ounce of hope left to hold onto, he'd thrown himself into this thing with Brooke. Hoping to get over the hurtful feeling of rejection.

But Brooke had surprised him. He'd been happy and without regret…

That is, until Peyton arrived at his doorstep last night with a trembling bottom lip and a request for a second chance. The problem? He had _Brooke_ in his room, and they were in the middle of one of the steamiest make-out sessions he'd ever had in his entire 17 years of life. Even better than with Peyton in that room at the banquet. _Way better. _

"Right, Luke?"

Brooke turns her head up towards him and he averts his eyes from the blonde, meets the twinkling hazel eyes beneath him instead and realizes that he hasn't heard a word of what she asked him.

"What are you thinking about, Broody?" she asks and tilts her head to the side. "You seem like you're in another universe."

Smiling he leans in and meets her ruby lips in a soft kiss. "No I'm here…" he mumbles and lets her kiss him again. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking that you look beautiful."

It's not entirely a lie. She _does _look stunning. But he feels a little guilty that he let his thoughts get occupied by her friend. With Brooke on his lap, he should have no problem focusing because she's damn near breath-taking.

But Brooke doesn't seem to notice his slip-up in attention. She just smiles brightly and her eyes light up even more when she asks "Really?" she sounds strangely amazed and he nods feeling both surprised and amused.

Didn't the girl know how gorgeous she was?

"Uh-huh," he answers seriously. "Like a dream come true." He replies thinking about the perfect girl and instead of blonde curls he sees chestnut locks, hazel eyes, and deep dimples.

Rachel scoffs and rolls her eyes but suddenly it's as he and Brooke are the only two in the quad.

She turns in his arms and this time when her lips capture his, she does it in a kiss that makes him blush and squirm. They're in a public place after all and even though it's silly, he feels as if everyone around them can see that he's getting a hard-on just from having her suck on his bottom lip.

"Walk me to class," she whispers with that raspy voice that is quickly becoming his favorite sound in the world. "I wanna show you something interesting in corridor two's janitor's closet…"

At his side, Peyton lets out a sigh and shoves the plugs to her Mp3-player into her ears. He looks at her briefly before returning his attention to the twinkling eyes and inch deep dimples of Brooke Davis.

"In the janitor's closet huh?" he whispers back and his blush goes from light red to crimson when he thinks about what it is that she wants to show him, and Brooke nods with enthusiasm.

"Yup, I guarantee you'll like it," she winks and slides her finger down the bridge of his nose.

He bets he will. Smiling like a little boy on Christmas morning, he lets her grab his hand and lead him away from the table. Peyton had her chance and he realizes that even if she _had_ left behind that metaphoric 'glass slipper,' he doesn't want it anymore.

Time goes on, things change and people grow up. Lucas knows this and follows the girl who makes him laugh, feel alive and do spontaneous things that he'd never thought about doing before. He wants to live in reality now, and to do that means to drop _bad habits_ that will never be.

Besides, he can always be _friends_ with Peyton. Because one can never have too many friends… right? But if that's true than why is Rachel staring at him like she knows what he's thinking?

And why does she look like she wants to tell him he's full of shit?

---x---

His body is set on working on his 'Frontier Thesis' paper, but his mind is elsewhere. More precisely, it's mentally roaming the smooth plains of the exquisitely flawless physique of one Brooke Davis, rather than the dirt filled rocky plains of the expanding United States. _Focus, Nathan_, he scolds himself.

But looking across the table at the way Haley's shirt pulls across her chest so snuggly makes him groan. Does she know how hot she is? He clenches his eyes and looks back down at his paper.

_The 'Turner Thesis' was first announced in a thesis paper written by Frederick Jackson Turner entitled, 'The Significance of the Frontier in American History,' and was delivered to the American Historical Association in 1893 at the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago. However, it's conclusion was what caught the attention of most late 19__th__ century intellectuals, it explained why Americans and American government were so different from Europeans. It stated that every generation—_blah blah blah blah!

"Err!" he growls and throws down his pen where it rolls across the table and slips down into Haley's lap. "I can't do this," he mutters.

He hasn't had sex in going on five days and with his dad and coach constantly on his ass about everything from grades to shitty lay-ups, he really just needs a damn break.

"You seem to be doing fine to me," she lifts her head and stares back at him with a small encouraging smile. "Here," she hands him his pen back, "I'll tell you what," she brings her elbows up to rest on the table then sets her chin down onto her fists.

"What," he mumbles irritably. Unless she's going to help him work out some of this frustration naked, then he really doesn't want to talk.

"Come on," she bends her flutters her lashes at him, "out with it."

"Excuse me?" he replies with a grimace.

Her head shakes humorously, "Tell me what's bothering you," she laughs and slaps a hand down onto the table.

"This essay is boring," he snaps at her, "I don't want to do it."

"Nathan," she sighs and picks up his paper to look at it, "this is some great writing you have done here. Seriously," she sets it back down and looks at him with those big brown eyes of hers, "the problem is not your paper, Nathan. The problem is _you_. Now tell me what's wrong, I swear it will help you finish this paper if you just let it out."

He chuckles at her, "What are you? My tutor or my shrink?"

A smile pulls up and she laughs softly, "Whatever you need," she shakes her head and her ponytail swings back and forth behind her.

His eyes flick over her from top to bottom, "Really?"

She nods innocently, "Mmhmm."

He laughs again, "TJ," he uses the nickname her he's come up with, **T**utor **J**ames, "you should really rethink your vocabulary a little."

She blinks in surprise and flinches back an inch, "Why? What did I say?"

"Nothing," he smirks and takes a deep breath to keep from propositioning her. How is it that Brooke got into his geek brother's pants and he can't get into Haley's? Wouldn't that be the ultimate slap in her face?

B with L, N with H. The letters spell trouble. Bad and good mixed, create too many gray areas where as the innocent of the two have been brought up in a world of black and white. Nathan sees nothing but gray skies in his own future, as does Brooke he can bet.

"So… are you gonna tell me what's bothering you?" she asks again.

He sighs deeply then leans forward over the table and clasps his hands, "So I got this friend…" he starts.

She bites on her bottom lip to keep from laughing. It's the oldest trick in the book to start a sentence with '_so I have this friend…'_ doesn't he know that? She can tell just by looking at him that he's talking about himself. It's adorable, really, it is.

"Okay," she nods her head and plays along.

"He's being a total pussy over this chick—uh," he presses two fingers to his lips and blushes slightly, "sorry."

She chuckles, "Nathan, I've heard you say worse. In fact, I've heard you _sing _worse. Do you not remember that it was me who picked your drunk ass up from the Blue Post a few weeks ago?"

"Oh, yeah," he ducks his head. "Well, my friend, he… he has this girlfriend," he frowns at the word, "well, not so much a girlfriend as a spawn from hell, really. She's a total bitch," Nathan scowls, "but he puts up with her shit and he keeps going back for more."

"Maybe he's just fallen into a pattern," she offers up a her opinion. "Sounds to me like he knows he should let go, but he can't because it disrupts what he's used to. People fear change."

"They have their moments," he sighs with a small nod of his head.

"_You look so ridiculous!" Brooke laughs and leans into Nathan to keep from falling over. "Oh my God!" _

"_Shut up, we look hot," Rachel sticks her tongue out and descends the rest of the stairs in her leopard print bra and short linen-cloth skirt. Two plastic bones are intertwined in her hair to make her look like Pebbles from the Flintstones. _

_But it's _Owen _who makes Nathan spit his drink out and clings to Brooke to keep from collapsing down to the floor in laughter. Dressed in a brown tunic and leather sandals, he comes up behind Rachel with a grin from ear to ear. _

"_Dude, we're gonna kill this party," he roars out happily and rushes himself and Pebbles down the rest of the steps. "Prep, check it out," he pulls his hat off and points to his bleached locks, "do I not make a kick ass Bam-Bam?" _

_Nathan's response is to join Brooke down on the floor clutching his stomach in deep belly aching laughter. _

"_Do I look stupid?" Owen turns to Rachel with a frown, "because I'm starting to feel stupid…" _

"_Don't you listen to them," she shakes her head with eyes only for him, "I think you look hot, baby," she grins and pulls him down to her lips. _

Nathan sighs and thinks of the multiple number of times he's seen the softer side in Rachel. But only when she was around Owen. Now he feels bad for calling her an evil spawn from hell. Well, almost.

"Sometimes moments here and there aren't enough," Haley shakes her head. "Not if you're stuck in an unhealthy relationship."

"But that's the thing," he scoffs, "they're fucked up but apart? They're miserable. I mean, I've seen Ow—I mean, my _friend_," he clears his throat, "he, uh, he's been acting different. He's not himself."

She stares at him and wonders if she's mistaken and he's actually talking about one of his friends. But isn't his on-off relationship with Peyton exactly this? Toxic? Unhealthy? But when they're apart they're both extra moody.

"Nathan, listen to me," she reaches across the table and takes his hand—an action that makes Nathan's eyes widen slightly in surprise—, "sometimes you have to let go of one routine and start a new one."

He blinks down at her confused and stares at her fingers over his hand. She thinks he's talking about himself. Hell, he almost could be.

_Bzzt. Bzzt. _

His hand jerks out from under her hold to pull his phone out to read a text from Owen that apologizes for the other night. He rolls his eyes and tries to let bygones be bygones. The guy is going through major heartache, who is Nathan to hold that against him? That's not to say all is forgiven. He texts back that it's cool and closes his cell only to have it ring this time and the name that flashes across the screen pulls him up out his seat.

"Uh," he glances down at Haley, "I have to take this," he points to his phone.

She glances down at their books and back up at him disappointed.

"Rain check on the therapy session," he smirks and shoves all of his belongings into his backpack sloppily. "See you later, TJ!" he shouts over his shoulder as he hurries down the Riverwalk and answers his phone.

Haley sighs as she watches him leave and smacks her hand against her forehead. "Don't even think about it Haley James," she scolds herself. She cannot start crushing on Nathan Scott. She will not be Luke.

She will not fall for the enemy.

---x---

_**December 15**__**th**_

It's Wednesday and they're doing homework together in his room. She had of course thought that 'homework' was code for something much more fun, but apparently he's being serious. For forty minutes now he's been trying to get her to remember stuff about the Spanish inquisition and she can't really tell him that it's a waste of time.

She can't tell him that she won't remember the facts anyway and that she hasn't studied for history-class since the semester started. And she can't tell him that she'll pass regardless, all she has to do is to keep up the flirting with Mr. O'Connor.

When she told Nathan, he laughed and made her promise to share the test-answers. But Lucas is so different from Nate, so much more '_good'_, and she wants him to think that she's at least a little bit better than she really is.

So instead of telling him, she tries to switch his focus away from the higher learning by turning him on. She moves closer to him and, while he explains the difference between something called Conversos and Marranos, she leans her head towards his shoulder and lets her breath tickle the skin on neck. Her hand slides innocently up his thigh and the sentences he just started trails off into nothing.

"Kiss me" she mumbles when he looks down at her face a little nervously. And he complies. But the careful yet sweet peck he places on her lips is not nearly enough. She's gonna need a whole lot more to make up for the last hour of History. So she deepens the kiss and gently slides her tongue along his bottom lip. It doesn't take much and he answers with his own in a soft tangle that leaves her smiling.

Innocent boy. Sweet and _wonderful_ Lucas Scott.

"Let's forget about the Spanish Revolution or whatever," she whispers and straddles him with a lithe move. "I think we need to study other things…"

He grins and kisses her again. His hands are placed at her hips and surprisingly they stay planted there, even when she leans him back against the bed's headboard and starts kissing down his jaw and neck. She slowly slides the zipper down on his hooded sweater and he answers by rubbing circles with his thumbs on the naked skin between her jeans and her t-shirt, but apart from that he's not moving.

It makes her a little insecure that he's not as urgent as guys usually are and for a second she wonders if he even wants her. But when shifting a little on top of him, she feels the hard evidence. Maybe he's just shy?

After all, he's rather new to this thing. He's not like the guys that she usually hooks up with. It's only been three weeks since the night of their Blue Post 'date' and yesterday when she tried to feel him up in the janitors closet he had mumbled weird stuff about not wanting her to feel disrespected. She's not sure what he meant, but she figures that he's still mentally somewhat of a virgin. So she's given him time, almost a week of gentle making out, but she wants tonight to be different.

And maybe he agrees, because his hands finally start moving up towards her boobs and the kisses turn more passionate, more like the night in the backroom of the bar. Wet, hot and yet so amazingly 'new' that it sends shivers down her spine.

She pulls back enough to be able to get him out of the sweater and mumbles, "Is your mom home?" against his smiling lips. When he shakes his head and his kisses ventures down to her collarbone, then she thanks whatever god it is that is on her side.

"She's with Keith in Charlotte…" His hands move teasingly slowly on her skin, "She won't be home until later…" and for a second she just looks at him. Takes in the sight of him in his white wife-beater and messy dirt-blonde hair. His body is gorgeous, although not so defined yet with only five weeks with the team. And the blue eyes… sometimes they're so familiar that it scares her.

"You are so mine tonight…" she murmurs and slides her own t-shirt over her head in a fluent motion that makes those beautiful eyes go wide. He must feel like prey because he looks a little scared and she can't help but smile before she pounces.

She plans on making this passionate, quick and rough. She wants to feel him. Now. But apparently Lucas has other plans.

"Hey… hey, Brooke… wait." He pins her down and when she looks at him in confusion, he kisses her softly. "You don't have to do this you know," he says and keeps looking into her eyes.

"Do what?"

She smirks. Can't he see that she _wants_ to do this? She craves him like she'd crave water in Sahara. She needs him to grab her. Claim her. So why is he backing away, doing the complete opposite? It's not like this is their first time or anything like that.

"You don't have to be like this, Brooke. We can take it slower," he mumbles and his smile becomes softer. "Just kiss… touch… We don't always have to have sex."

She frowns but then she realizes how sweet he's being. He cares about her and when she thinks about it, it's amazingly cute how he wants to make sure that this is what she wants.

"Really?" she tests him. "So we can just cuddle?"

Expecting him to look disappointed, she settles on his arm and waits, but surprisingly he nods and pulls her closer. Kisses her temple and then her jaw and neck.

"Yeah, I'd love that…" he mumbles softly and continues the trail of feather light kisses down her collarbone. "We can go as slow as you like."

Something weird happens inside her chest, a warm sensation that she's not used to. She feels _safe_. But 'safe' is not _satisfying. _

"Okay," she whispers back and lets him kiss her in whatever pace he wants. After all, there's no stress. If he wants to take it slow then who is she to push him?

Then again, it's not like Brooke doesn't have options.

---x---

He taps his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the beat of the music. Bobs his head and smirks. The street is empty and the windows of the huge houses up the hill are mostly dark. He guesses that this has nothing to do with people being asleep, even though it's almost midnight. Up here – in the upper-class part of Tree Hill – people are just seldom home.

That's why he jumps slightly in his seat when someone suddenly bangs on the car window. Startled he rolls the tinted screen down and faces a frowning Rachel Gatina, shivering in her short-sleeved shirt. Hasn't the girl realized that it's December?

"She's not here," she mutters acidly, "she's at Lucas'."

She sounds mean, probably still all bitter and upset about the situation with Owen, and Nathan decides to stay out of it because, even though he tried to get advice from Haley on how to get them back together, he's still a little peeved at Owen for snapping at him the other night in the bar. Besides, Rachel was the one to do the dumping so she pretty much has herself to blame.

Instead he nods up towards the house.

"You should get inside," he points out. "You're not really dressed for the outdoors."

Actually he kind of wonders _what_ she's been up to. She looks tired and grumpy but she's wearing clothes that kind of implies that she's been to a party. And that's not so out of the ordinary – it's just that Rachel and Brooke usually party in pair.

She snorts back annoyed and frowns at him. "Just go home, Nate. Seriously."

"It's nice of you to worry about me," he smirks without moving to start the car back up, "but I'm perfectly peachy right where I am."

He shouldn't be pissing her off on purpose but it's so gratifying to keep the banter up when she's so easily annoyed. T.I blasts from the car-stereo and she groans and shakes her head.

"Whatever. Just turn that crap off. You're waking half the neighborhood."

She starts to turn, probably to stomp off up to the house and slam the door with a loud meaningful 'bang', but right then Brooke's little blue Beetle turns up the driveway and Rachel's eyebrows narrow in confusion.

Brooke bounces out of the car and smiles widely towards them both as she walks over, at least until she sees Rachel's outfit.

"Going out?" she asks without greeting and Rachel looks back at Brooke guiltily and shakes her head.

"You two comin' in?" she returns without looking at him. Her eyes are focused on Brooke and he gets that feeling again. The one that there's some kind of silent communication going on between the brunette and the redhead. Body language that only they understand, radio waves, telepathy…

Seconds pass and then finally, the moment seems to be over. "I'll be back later," Brooke replies and walks over to get in on the passenger side of his car. And he can't help but to look up at Rachel and smirk.

"At Lucas' huh?" he taunts before Brooke has gotten the door open so that she can hear him. "Well, now she's with me."

Then he turns the ignition.

_Now she's with me._

---x---

_**December 17**__**th**_

She doesn't like gym-class. She's pretty sure that she likes every single one of her other classes, she just wishes that she could cut gym from her curriculum.

Why?

Because she likes the subjects in which she can excel, and frankly, she – Haley James – sucks when it comes to sports and physical activities. Always has.

And all this is the reason to why she sits on a bench in the gymnasium, watching the other juniors run around to conquer the different pieces of gymnastic equipment. Of all the things possible, she hates gymnastics and ball-sports the most. She's like a bull in a china-shop when it comes to anything graceful and she definitely has no ball sense.

"What did you tell Mrs. Jacobs this time?" Lucas chuckles as he jogs up to where she sits. "Taylor accidentally took your gym-bag? Or is it _that_ week again?" He stops and sits down next to her to take a breather. "Your excuses are totally translucent, Hales," he laughs. "Why won't you just try it, huh? I bet you'd like it."

His eyes stray across the big room and she knows what he's looking at. Brooke. What guy doesn't look at Brooke Davis? She makes all the weird gymnastic moves look like a breeze and it doesn't help that she does it in the tiniest gym-shorts Haley has ever seen.

She ignores his friendly teasing and frowns.

"So how's stuff with your girlfriend—oh, I'm sorry your bed-buddy."

Instantly his smile slips into a disappointed frown and she hates that it actually makes her feel guilty when all she's trying to do is look out for him.

"Fine," she mutters and rolls her eyes, "I'll play nice. _Brooke_," she corrects herself, "how are things with you and _Brooke?_"

It's been a while now and her best friend seems content with Brooke but she's still worried. Lucas is a sensitive guy. A _dreamer_. And from what she's heard, the cheer-captain comes with both baggage and reputation. She's just not sure that all this popularity stuff, like cocky beautiful girlfriends or being on the varsity basketball team, is really good for Luke.

Lucas wipes the sweat off his forehead and smiles, completely missing the cautiousness in her tone.

"Great," His smile grows wider and his eyes stray back to Brooke again, who right at that moment does a perfect somersault on the thick gym mat. "She's amazing. Did I tell you that she brought me and Keith coffee this morning?"

He looks so proud that she has to bite the inside of her cheek not to blurt out a sarcastic comeback. "What about Peyton Sawyer?" she asks instead. "I thought you were into _her_, but I must have been mistaken."

Obviously she doesn't masque up her opinions as well this time because he looks at her and sighs.

"Haley, I'm not the bad guy here, ok? Peyton's just too…hard." He gets up from the bench as if ready to go back out on the floor, and strangely enough she feels annoyed.

"Unlike Brooke who I understand is nice and _easy,_" she mutters and flips her hair out of her face.

"Excuse me?"

He raises his brow and looks at her but she just returns the question with a stare that says 'you know what I mean'.

How can he not understand that he doesn't belong with the it-people? Nathan and the other guys on the team hate his guts and the rest of the social elite see him as Brooke's little toy. Her flavor of the month.

"_Really_, Luke?" she finally says and she lowers her voice so that none of their classmates will hear. "You and _Brooke_? I mean, I get it that you enjoy…um… _being_ with her…"

She doesn't get the chance to finish. His eyes turn cold, an expression not often seen on him, and he interrupts her.

"She makes me _laugh__,_" he marks with a tone that wants no resistance. "Okay Hales? She's _honest_, she's not afraid to be herself. Plus, she's not covered head to toe in issues. What's so bad about that?"

He looks disappointed, maybe because she's so clearly not supporting his decisions of late. And maybe she should be more supportive? Lucas is her best friend and he's usually a good judge of character.

The guilty feeling creeps over her again. Just as he said, what is so bad about this? Nothing probably. If Lucas had gotten together with Peyton, she would probably have been even more worried, because when she thinks about it, Peyton would have been worse.

Peyton and Brooke both come from the same different universe. They're popular, powerful and pretty. But where Brooke is cheery, flirty and mischievous, Peyton seems dark, unpredictable and strangely careless.

"Nothing's wrong," she mumbles. "_Nothing_. If you're happy, I'm happy."

"I'm happy," he assures her.

"Okay then," she nods her head, "so am I."

She means it but he looks at her suspiciously.

"Why do you hate Brooke?" he asks. "You haven't even given her a chance."

She swallows and thinks. And for a second she wants to say '_Just like you're giving Nathan so many chances_'. She shakes her head at the silly thought because why would he? Nathan is an ass towards Luke.

Then again, he _has _toned it down a bit—no, _a lot_. Even so, Lucas is not Nathan and she knows he wouldn't be with someone if they were a bad person.

So why doesn't she trust Brooke then? The brunette cheerleader has done nothing to her. Is it because she's jealous of all the things that Brooke has that she doesn't have herself? Or is it because Lucas has been pretty much missing in action ever since the brunette cheer-captain first flashed him her 'come hither' smile?

Or could it be all of the above?

"I just..." she starts, but right then Brooke comes up from behind and flings her arms around Lucas' neck.

"Wanna come help me stretch?" she giggles huskily in his ear and Lucas' focus switches instantly. Haley watches how he nods and unconsciously licks his lips, and she gives up. He's in too deep already and he won't listen to any of her admonitions anyway, especially not with a half-naked Brooke in close proximity.

Mrs. Jacobs hasn't blown the whistle that signals that the class is over yet, but instead of sticking around to be scarred for life by the sight of Lucas 'stretching' Brooke, she gets up and walks towards the door.

Maybe if she talked to Principal Turner and told him she'd take on more tutoring, then he'd let her skip the gym-circus completely.

"Hey, James!"

Someone grabs her shoulder and she turns around, irritated. She's met by the sight of Nathan Scott. "You weren't at the dock this morning," he says and smiles crookedly. "I waited for you."

Oh crap.

"God, I'm sorry." She looks around to make sure that Lucas is out of ear-shot. He hates that she still tutors Nathan and she _might_ have slipped that she's stopped. "I forgot," she mumbles. "Tomorrow, same time?"

She _had_ forgotten. Things had been crazy at home this morning, since Quinn was home for once and Taylor came by for breakfast. Now she feels bad, but Nathan seems to have lost focus and she follows his gaze. When she realizes what he's looking at, she rolls her eyes and sighs. Seriously!

"You guys are so _one-sided,_" she snorts. "What is so _damn_ interesting with Brooke?"

Nathan is blatantly staring at the girl. Lucas is drooling all over her, and the dimpled brunette just laughs and sways her hips.

"Why? Jealous much?" Nathan chuckles and then he does something she never would have expected. He rubs his thumb over her cheek. "You're cute too," he says and smirks. "Don't worry."

_Worry_.

Of course she should worry. Her face is an inferno from his touch, her stomach is tight and doing flips. He's so good looking and so freaking charming. Despite all her instincts and better judgment she's still managed to develop a school-girl crush on the infamous Nathan Scott.

"Just be there at 7am," she mutters and pulls away, ready to run from this entire freak-show. "Bring your math books."

The whistle finally sounds and she can leave without feeling guilty. Or she _could_, theoretically, if Lucas wasn't blocking her way. And he looks angry.

"Is he bothering you?" he says and looks at Nathan, not at her. "Did he just _touch_ you?"

Nathan glares back, still with the cocky smirk covering his face. "Chill, okay? We're just talking. Right Haley?" He winks and Lucas squints angrily.

"It's okay Luke…I'm… I mean, we were…"

Is she stuttering? She needs to get a grip of the situation and she looks from one brother to the other. All this just proves what she already knows. Gym-class is cursed.

She puts a hand on Lucas' arm. "We were just talking…" she mumbles, repeating Nathan's words. Most people have already left for the locker rooms—most—but not Rachel and Brooke.

"How's the tutoring going, Nate?" Rachel snickers when she passes them. "Nice of Haley to help you out."

Lucas' already squinting eyes become slits. He looks at her incredulously and she knows that she's screwed. _Screwed_.

"So you're _still_ tutoring him?" he hisses. "I thought you said that you quit?"

Nathan, Brooke and Rachel look at her expectedly. Brooke's arm is draped around Lucas' waist and she feels cornered.

"He was assigned to me," she sighs and rubs her face with a hand. "I can't just drop him, Luke." But Lucas just huffs in a childish pout. Then he gives Nathan one more death-glare and she knows that everything she tried to stifle by taking on Nathan, has just gotten worse. "Luke?" she begs, but her best friend takes a step away.

"Come on Brooke," he says to the girl at his side. "Let's go."

Brooke smiles and as they walk away, her arm moves up from his waist to rub Lucas' tense shoulders. Haley sighs and grabs her stuff before leaving as well. Just because her best friend is too much of a horny teenage boy to think straight doesn't mean that Brooke gets a free 'get out of jail' card.

She'll make an effort to be nicer to Brooke, maybe that will make Lucas less angry about the Nathan-thing, but she'll keep an eye on the dimpled cheerleader at the same time.

It's her freaking duty as a best friend.

---x---

_**December 18**__**th**_

It's not like there's a shortage of mirrors in her big house. Just in her own bathroom there's five. Yet she and Rachel are standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the same one, fighting for the space in front of it as they get ready for the game.

Tree Hill Ravens vs. the West Johnston Wildcats. Home court.

The whole routine is so often practiced that it works on autopilot. And if it didn't sound so cheesy and stupid, she'd say that the familiarity of cheerleading is making her feel safe. It's the only thing she's been part of for a longer period of time, it's the only place where she's actually trying to be the best she can be and she feels at home with the girls on the squad. More so than she does in her own family.

Then again, Rachel is pretty much all the family she needs. It's just that lately, when listening to Lucas talk about his mother, she's started to think about what she's missing out on.

"Where'd your parents go this year?" she asks the redhead and applies mascara to her eyelashes. "Aspen?"

Rachel puts down the lip-gloss and pouts her lips while watching her own reflection.

"No, Chamonix. They want me to come over during Christmas break but I hate skiing."

It's mid December and her own parents are long gone. They left over weeks ago and frankly she can't remember the last time they spent Christmas as a family in this house. The only tradition upheld in the Davis-household seems to be that December and January are parent-free months.

"Wanna switch?" Brooke mutters and reaches for the curling iron. "I've got Christmas in Cancun with two maids and a gardener. Mom and dad will be on a Christmas-cruise." She picks up the gloss that Rachel put down and coats her own lips. "I'd love to go to the French Alps. Snowboard-guys are totally yummy."

"Yeah? Maybe you can spend Christmas with Lucas?" Rachel snorts, "Isn't his mom back now?"

Brooke sighs. Puts the curling iron back on the counter and turns to her redheaded friend. "Why are you being such a Peyton?" she asks softly even though Rachel looks less than friendly at the moment. The bitterness in her friend's voice when uttering that Lucas-comment says it all.

"I'm not being a Peyton," Rachel mutters back and scans her face in the mirror before adding some blush to her cheeks. "I'm just stating a fact."

With an agile move Brooke jumps up to sit on the sink, forcing Rachel to look at her instead of into the mirror. Then she flattens out the creases in her short skirt and bites her lip in contemplation. They have plenty of time before they need to be at the gym for the game and there's stuff that needs to be said. After all, it's been almost three weeks since Rachel last talked to Owen and even though Rachel is the one that broke things off, she knows that her best friend is in pain.

She knows the scarlet-haired girl in front of her well enough to know that she wants to take it all back but that the stupid Gatina-pride gets in the way.

If it weren't for the tidbits of information she'd gotten from Nathan, Brooke would be angry at Owen for not just calling Rachel up to smooth things over. But apparently Owen is even more hurt than her redheaded friend. And at least, he's being open about it.

"Why don't you just call him, Raye?" she asks and swings her bare legs back and forth. "I bet he misses you just as much as you miss him."

Rachel keeps the façade up, leans around Brooke to still see herself in the reflection and continuous applying her makeup while muttering; "If he wanted to talk, he could've called me."

She's not ready to admit to Brooke that she's dialed the number at least ten times a day the last week but that she's too scared. Too scared that she's waited too long and that he won't even pick up the call.

"Yeah, but you broke up with _him_… because he said that he _loves_ you…" Brooke presses and tilts her head down to the side, efficiently blocking the view of the mirror. "I'd be hurt too."

_God_, why can't Brooke just _give up_?

"Well maybe you and Owen can be cry-babies together?" she sneers and looks up at Brooke's concerned face. And even though she hates it, she can't help that the smile on her face is sarcastic when she adds, "You both seem to want the same lovey dovey bullshit bad enough."

Brooke should know that she doesn't do well with kindness when she's feeling like a first-class idiot and she hopes that the comment will be a strong enough hint to make her brunette friend drop this infected subject.

But for once, Brooke actually takes Rachel's comment personally. She knows that Rachel finds her 'thing' with Lucas ridiculous and that most of this bitchiness stems from the breakup with O, but even so, there's no reason for Rachel to be this catty.

"Just admit that you have feelings for Owen," she sighs tiredly and rolls her eyes. "It's clear as fucking day, Rachel. You've damn near kidnapped my purple monkey this past week and I'm getting tired of you sex-deprived grouchiness!"

Rachel's head snaps back up from the mirror and for a second they're both silent. Then Rachel pulls her red hair up into a tight ponytail and fastens the required blue ribbon with a control that seems almost eerie.

"I'll admit that when you cut this fucking crap with Lucas and starts to admit that you have feelings for _Nathan_," she bites back fiercely.

Brooke gets silent and jumps down from the sink and she keeps saying nothing as she grabs her things, because now Rachel is just being a bitch and if they keep this up it'll turn into a real argument.

"Come on," she mutters, "we're going to be late."

Then she leaves Rachel behind in the bathroom and walks out the door. She's had enough with this crap and it's time to let Raye and Owen deal with this on their own. Therefore she ignores it when Rachel calls her name and simply trots down the stairs while sending a text to Lucas.

And she can pretend not to hear what Rachel says, still on the upstairs landing, but in reality she hears it load and clear.

"You're being a hypocrite, B, and you know it!"

Yeah?

Bullshit.

---x---

She's bored when she catches sight of something that could possibly entertain her until Brooke appears from the school gym. Rachel hates waiting for anyone, but Brooke is her ride home and currently she is inside playing suckface with Lucas. Most guys have already dressed and left the locker room. But a few straggle behind, either too sore from the game or not eager to go home so soon after a win.

But its Wednesday night—a _school _night. Most kids around Tree Hill have parents who actually give a shit. That means no parties Sunday through Thursday, however, Friday and Saturday are completely different stories.

So there Rachel stands, leaning against one of the steal beams that line the halls in front of the gym, bored and alone. That is, until she sees Haley James a few feet away standing under one of the roof lights. Her hair is brushed out, long and blonde is her mane as it surrounds her face beautifully. And if Rachel isn't mistaken, the girl has a slight glossy tint to her lips and color over her lids.

She's waiting for someone.

But who?

Boredom can do crazy things to people. Especially when the person who is bored is Rachel Gatina. She tends to start trouble for the sake of a little entertainment. It never lasts long enough though, because Rachel's attention span is short lived. Unless it's something truly extraordinary, she doesn't care.

But when there is nothing else to do, her mind wanders… and its caught sight of a lesser known importance.

"Hey, you," she shouts and Haley's shoulders tense up startled.

"Uh," the poor girl looks around to see if Rachel is actually acknowledging her existence.

"Yeah," Rachel nods, "I'm talking to you. I'm looking at you, ain't I?" She rolls her eyes and takes a step forward. "Who're you waiting for? Your little homeboy, Luke?"

Haley shakes her head, "Um, no. Not exactly."

The smirk on Rachel's face grows into a wolfish grin, "Oh you gotta be kidding me." She chuckles. "This is rich, really. I actually sort of feel sorry for you."

"Excuse me?" Haley turns and scowls.

"Hold off, sweet cheeks." Rachel holds her hands out empty. "I come in peace, well… sort of." She smirks again.

Haley braces herself like she would around a poisonous snake.

"You see, I couldn't help but notice that you've been hanging around after games a lot lately. And well, each time you do you clean up just a little bit more than the last time." She says and picks up a lock of Haley's honey gold hair to examine it. "Kind of starts to make a girl think, you know?" She shrugs.

"I—"

"Oh, don't play stupid," her light eyes roll, "you're waiting for someone." She says and starts to circle the short tutor. "So let's play a little game, shall we? And it's called," she stops to bend down and whisper into Haley's ear, "who's gonna pop the tutorgirl's cherry."

"You're insane," Haley jerks away.

Rachel only chuckles in amusement, "And you're delusional. Nathan wouldn't touch you with a six foot pole, honey."

"Who said I was here for him?" Haley's eyes narrow, "Maybe I'm here for—"

"Maybe you're full of shit and you're panicking because you got caught." Rachel snaps and steps in closer to pin the girls back up against the wall. "Don't play with me Haley, because I'm a master at this game and you're not even worthy enough to share the same board with me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She whispers.

A smirk, "You're a very bad liar, did you know that?"

"You're a real _bitch_, did you know that?"

Rachel gasps, "Why tutorgirl! Such language you use," her eyes widen in fake surprise, "I didn't know you had it in you."

"There are a lot of things about me that you don't know," she growls.

"Classic come back," Rachel laughs, "but I expected more from a girl who believes she's better than everyone else. Uh, uh," she stops Haley from responding, "don't even try to say you don't think that because it will be a lie and you've already done that to me twice tonight." She scowls and leans in so that her face in inches away from Haley's, "Three strikes and you're out baby." She whispers softly.

Haley remains pressed against the cold bricks at her back and continues to stare back at Rachel in defiance. The parking lot is near empty and Haley wonders if she's going to kick Rachel's ass or call for help. But something in the cheerleaders eyes brings her pause, she's calculating behind those green irises. Slowly forming a plan of attack.

She's made Haley her victim and Haley does not respond well to threats. She feels like she's twelve years old again and Taylor has backed her into a corner. Evilly taunting her with harsh words and a wicked grin.

"Get out of my face," Haley mutters acidly.

Rachel blinks in surprise, "Kudos for the bravery little James," she laughs, pleased that things have taken in a new direction. "Think you can take me?"

"Why are you doing this? Do you have a thing for Nathan or something?" She scoffs and the shock and disgust from her statement catches Rachel off guard long enough for Haley to escape from her clutches.

But Rachel's too quick and soon she's got Haley by her wrist, "I'd be careful if I were you." She warns. "Nate's a big fish in small waters," she starts, "now tell me, just what do you think that makes _you?_" Rachel scoffs.

"An innocent girl in shark infested waters, I'd say." Nathan says from behind the preying wildcat. His eyes flash to Haley, "I just threw you a lifejacket, take it and run." He warns her. "Jake," he turns to his teammate, "I think Haley needs a ride home."

"I came with Luke," she tells him.

Nathan chuckles, "I hate to break it to you, but he and Brooke left about five minutes ago." His shoulders rise and fall.

"Son of a _bitch_," Rachel curses under her breath, "that fucking whore."

Haley can barely lift her jaw from off the floor. She follows Jake when he places a warm hand on her shoulder and doesn't dare to look back. She's had enough surprises for one night and after facing off with Rachel, her energy is drained.

"Come on," Nathan nods his head towards the parking lot, "I'll drop you off."

"I don't need your charity," she hisses back at him.

"Yeah? Well I don't need Owen's foot up my ass if he finds out I left you here without a ride." He shoots back. "Now tuck in the lip and let's go. I'm starving and I wanna get to a drive thru before they all close."

She almost tells him to take his ride and shove it up his ass. Owen is of no concern to her nor should he care whether or not she gets a ride home. But it's late, she's cranky and she's tired. So she gives him one more death glare and then brushes past him towards his truck. He sighs and follows her, pressing the unlock button on his keys. When they're buckled and on the road he rolls to a stop at a green light. Rachel blinks in confusion and looks over at him for an explanation.

"Leave Haley alone," he says without looking at her.

"Leave _Brooke _alone," Rachel snaps back.

"I'll stop when she tells me to," he turns his head and looks at her, "not a minute sooner."

Rachel eye's burn with resentment, "You're breaking her."

"She's a big girl, she doesn't do anything she doesn't want to." He tells her.

"That's because she doesn't know how to say _no_ to you."

He shakes his head, "You ever think that maybe she doesn't _want _to say no?"

She scoffs in disgust and looks out her window, "Take me home."

"You didn't answer my question," Nathan says not taking his foot off the brake.

"Yeah, well we can't all get what we want," she mutters staring out at the murky field beside the road.

Nathan sighs in defeat, "No shit," he mutters and drives through the red light.

"Red light, short-bus," she scoffs.

"I didn't see a red light," he mumbles and pulls into a McDonalds.

She hates his taste in music, it's even more challenged than Owen's. She swears one day she's going to take Owen's black leather CD case and—she inhales a sharp breath. She needs to stop thinking about that college quarterback. He's out of her life now. So it shouldn't matter what he listens to.

Eminem continues to play softly inside the truck and her nails tap against her door with her eyes trained to outside her window. Even with her attention elsewhere she can still see Nathan staring at her through the reflection.

"Take a picture," she snaps without turning around, "it'll last longer."

"Would you even show up?" he burns her back and she rolls her eyes. "Look," he pauses and eases his truck into the crowded drive-thru waiting line, "I know you're all pissy because you and Owen are in a fight or whatever—"

"Who said we were fighting? We're done," she grumbles, "whatever we were has run its course and I'm ready to move on now." She says and stretches her legs out in front of her to stare down at her bright white sneakers against the black interior.

Nathan dares to laugh, and when she glares at him he only proceeds to laugh harder. But she sees nothing funny and watching him crack up beside her does nothing but piss her off more.

"Knock it off," her hand whips out to smack his shoulder, "I mean it Nathan, you look like a giant douche bag."

He chuckles some more then holds a hand up, "You are such a liar," he laughs again, only this time it's more controlled.

"Excuse me?" she asks incredibly.

"You heard me, Rachel," he shakes his head. "You couldn't quit him if you tried. Just like he can't quit you."

"He'll be fine," she mutters and turns back to her window. "I'm sure he's got a line of hoes ready to replace me."

"Probably," Nathan agrees and she scoffs and turns to scowl at him in disbelief. "What?" he shrugs and rolls his truck up one spot in line, "He's Owen, I mean come on. The guy has a lot going for him. He gets along with everyone he meets, he's respectful and open minded, he's president of his fraternity chapter, quarterback to a team that is nearly undefeated…" he lets the list trail on open ended and sighs, "but he wants _you_."

"Are you sure _you _don't want him?" she snorts and looks over at him skeptically, "that was quite a list you had going there. Is that envy or infatuation in your tone?"

He sighs in annoyance, "Give it up, Raye. Just be real for five seconds, will you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she twists her entire body around to face him, "is this supposed to be the part where I open up and express my feelings?"

"You're hopeless," Nathan mutters and averts his gaze forward out the windshield. "It must really suck to live in all that denial. I bet its almost suffocating, no wonder you walk around like you got a stick up your ass all the time."

She forces a laugh and shrugs, "You know what? You're right. Come here," she waves him closer, "I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Then we can cry, hug, and if there's time? Maybe even slow dance."

He stares back at her unresponsive and for a second she smirks because she's finally managed to shut him up.

"Fine," he holds his hands up at his sides, "be like that. I'll back off."

"Finally," she mutters and settles back into her seat facing the window.

"But think about this, Raye," he draws her attention back to his side of the car. "What you had with Owen is rare. Never can you get both sides of the coin. He pushes you, but never to the end. He takes your shit, but he has his limits. Then you have guys like me and Luke. They're either _too _perfect, or…" he pauses and she lifts her gaze up to him and he sighs, "or you get the idiots like me who don't start to figure shit out until it's too late."

Her mouth remains closed, she has no response to what he's just said. And when he finally manages to roll his car up to the order speaker, she watches him closely.

Because he's just spilled a slight secret of his own.

---x---

Her hair smells like the inside of a McDonalds when she comes storming into the house at two past eleven at night. For the past 30 minutes, Rachel's been held hostage inside Nathan's truck. Several times she had to fight with herself to not escape by jumping out of the moving vehicle.

The boy was a looker, she would not deny him that. But his taste in music sucked almost as much as his taste in curly haired blonde girlfriends. He drove like a grandpa but a small part of her thinks it was on purpose. Because it was no secret that Rachel wanted out and Nathan wore a smirk on his face the entire ride.

Not to mention the fact that she'd been forced to accompany him as he ordered three servings worth of food from the drive thru. Two double cheeseburgers with practically the whole kitchen piled on, large fries, large drink, two apple pies and _then _he dared to turn and ask if she wanted anything.

"You are _such _a bitch!" Rachel tears into her shared room with Brooke and shoves a finger in the brunette's face.

Surprise and confusion cover Brooke's face and then it hits her and she gasps with wide eyes, "Oh my god! I am _so sorry!_" She cries and jumps up to her feet, "Oh my goodness, Rachel I completely for—"

"Save it whore, you totally sold me out for some wimpy reject. I had to sit in a car with Nathan—_for 30 fucking minutes_—as he drove around town trying to figure out what he wanted to eat!" She shouts out angry. "The stupid fuck almost spilled his soda all over my lap and I smell like hamburger meat!"

Brooke's nose wrinkles, "Yeah, actually I was gonna ask you what that smell was…" She shuts up when Rachel's eyes narrow at her. "Raye, come on. I'm sorry, what do you want me to say? Luke needed a ride home and I wanted to get laid," she shrugs. "It's no different than that time you and Owen left me behind at that away game in Columbia."

"I did not _leave you behind_," she scoffs, "I told Bevin to take you home. How was I to know she'd forget?"

"Let's just drop this, okay?" Brooke sighs, "I don't want to fight."

"Hoes over bros, Brooke. You broke a vital code among women," Rachel snaps, "and for what? _Lucas? _Are you kidding me?!"

"Why are you so upset?" She wants to know. "You wouldn't care if this was anyone else, Raye. Why do you hate Lucas so much?"

"I don't hate him," she groans and slumps down onto her bed, "I just… you ditched me Brooke."

"And I am so, _so _sorry," Brooke frowns and moves over to sit beside Rachel on her bed, "I feel horrible about it."

"This can't become a habit, B." Rachel mutters. "I know you're having your fun right now or whatever. But don't forget who's going to be there for you when the shit hits the fan between the three of you."

"Three?" Brooke pauses.

"You are in the middle of a Scott-boy sandwich, you slut. Have you forgotten already?" Rachel rolls her eyes, "Unbelievable." She mutters.

"Oh hush, I knew what you meant." Brooke scoots up to the top of the bed and lays down beside the scarlet haired beauty. "I really am sorry you know." She whispers.

"Yeah," Rachel nods with her eyes closed, "I know."

"If it makes you feel any better, Lucas totally wouldn't put out." She giggles.

Rachel starts to chuckle along and turns to look at Brooke, "Good thing you have a back up." She says and they both fall out in fit of laughter.

"Rachel, about what I said about Owen…"

"Save it," Rachel sighs, "I've had enough emotional talk for one night and I said some not so nice stuff too. I'm just going to bed."

Brooke watches Rachel head into the adjoining bathroom and she wonders when her best friend is going to crack. She doesn't even know what to say anymore since all her good arguments on the matter consists of reminding Rachel that she's actually loves the guy she's shunning, and that is obviously the very same thing that makes her friend so scared.

It's not like her own situation. Her Scott-boy_ sandwich_, as Rachel calls it, isn't hurting anyone. Lucas knows that they're not a couple. Nathan just wants an easy–

Her phone beeps and interrupts her thoughts. And just when she's about to open the text message, another one comes along.

_I just wanted to say goodnight_, the first reads. _I'll see you at your locker 2morrow morning. Sleep well baby._

She smiles. Lucas is such a sweetheart. Sure, she had felt a little annoyed when she dropped him off earlier and he didn't even invite her in. Chores, he had said, but what kind of excuse was that? Who does chores, anyway?

Now, when reading his text, she pictures him in his bed with his cell phone and for a second she plays with the idea of calling him up and giving him something more productive to think about.

She toys with the possibilities and while opening the second text, she wonders how Lucas would respond to that kind of dirty-talk. That would probably work better with Nathan.

And speak of the devil…

_B, U home? Wanna hook up? I need sum Davis-time._

She frowns. The way he just comes out and propositions her is somehow even clearer when it's in such stark contrast to Lucas' text. Just like she was thinking earlier: Lucas knows that they're not a couple – yet he treats her like she's worth something.

Nathan just wants an easy hook-up. A good lay.

She erases the second message coldly and when Rachel comes back into the room she's busy texting Lucas back.

_U're the cutest Luke. I wish I was in bed with U. C U 2morrow. _

And she must have been doing it with a smile on her face because Rachel snorts in an annoyed fashion and mutters something about 'cheese-overload' and 'sugar-coated romance bullshit'.

When the redhead crawls into bed and pulls the covers over her head in a grumpy manner, Brooke knows that the moment of breaking is close.

"'Night, Raye," she mumbles and turns out the light. And in the darkness she softly adds, "Bring a sweater with you. It's going to be cold."

"What the fuck are you mumbling about?" Rachel grunts from her side of the room and Brooke smirks and closes her eyes.

"Nothing, slutface. Just go to sleep."

---x---

It's late—or rather _really _early in the morning—and she's fucking freezing but she didn't drive the two and half damn hour drive to Durham from Tree Hill _twice _in one week for nothing. First time had been the other night when she got almost all the way to his college before she chickened out and turned around. She's still embarrassed that Brooke caught her in the driveway when she came back but then again, Brooke knows that its not the first time she fucked up.

Because actually, the first time she made this drive in vain had been when she had watched him at football practice that evening when Brooke went on a date with Lucas. And now – almost three weeks later, at 4 in the morning – here she is again.

Only this time she's sitting in her car outside his fraternity house debating her options. She's not going to tell him she loves him because she doesn't. At least that's what she's trying to convince herself, anyways.

She's gone over this so many times in the last week that it's starting to become ridiculous. Breaking her agreement off with Owen had been stupid. She had done it without thinking but to her defense – he should know better than to corner her like he had.

No preparation. No warning. Suddenly he had just blurted it out and she had freaked.

What else?

She sighs and leans her forehead on the steering wheel. This would all be so much easier if Brooke hadn't suddenly decided she believed in love and happiness and stupid la-la land shit like that. She blames TV and those _stupid, stupid _books she reads. Because love is a bullshit emotion and Rachel will not fall into that rabbit hole. Isn't that what she's been saying to Brooke over and over the past couple of weeks?

_But then why are you sitting outside his house, Rachel?_

She scowls at herself and slumps down into her seat. She doesn't love him. But she _likes_ him, she'll admit that. He looks good, his body is straight up gorgeous and the fact that he's bright enough to give her a mental challenge has never been a downside.

Besides, _no one_ can get her off like he can.

She's starting to get a headache and she can't believe it when she actually finds herself thinking that Nathan had been right earlier.

_What you had with Owen is rare. Never can you get both sides of the coin. He pushes you, but never to the end. He takes your shit, but he has his limits…_

Groaning out loud in the dark car, she realizes that Brooke's stupid boytoy hook-up has her and Owen figured out. Owen _does_ put up with her bullshit and he takes care of not only her but he looks out for Brooke as well. He doesn't question her when she needs alone time, and he never hesitates to leave when Brooke walks through the door looking like hell.

Why the hell did he have to ruin a perfect thing with that stupid, _stupid_ sentence?

Her thumb plays with the keys on her cell phone. She scrolls through her contacts and highlights Owen's name. This is ridiculous and she doesn't want to lead him on like this. Calling him up at 4:36 in the morning just to tell him that she forgives him for saying those words, and for them to just act as if it never happened would only piss him off.

Things can _never _be the way they were now that he's pulled everything out and set it all on the fucking table. _Damn _him and that big heart of his. Why did he have to ruin everything? _Why?!_ The backlight on her cell screen goes off and she drops her phone back into her lap.

She's already wasted a full tank of gas going back and forth from Tree Hill to Duke and now she's about to do it again. And for what? _Nothing_. Why isn't he calling her? He always calls her after a fight, just to see if she's still mad at him. That's what this is. A fight. A fight because he's a big idiot and she's ready to forgive him now.

It's been three weeks. He never lasts more than a day at most. So why won't he _call_ her?

4:44 flashes on the dashboard and Rachel swallows the lump in her throat. _Oh God_, she's going to cry. Her nose is itchy and her eyes are tingling. _Son of a…_

She grabs her phone and presses send.

"Y-yeah?" Owen's hoarse tone answers on the third ring.

She hesitates and almost hangs up.

"Hello?" He replies annoyed and she figures that he looks at his caller ID, "Rachel?"

She licks her dry lips and takes a deep breath, "Hey." Her voice comes out small.

"What's wrong?"

She can almost hear him rub a hand over his face and sit up in bed. She sees his light go on in his room and covers her mouth with a hand. "Raye, what is it? Talk to me, baby."

"I, uh…" she shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling in her truck, desperate to blink away the pooling tears, "I wanted to… umm…"

"Look, you don't have to say anything. I should have kept my mouth shut." He exhales through his nose and wipes the sleep from his eyes, "It's okay, I'm fine. I'm a big boy, Raye."

He gives a dry laugh and the way his voice sounds so tired makes her visibly cringe. Not tired as in being woken up at 4 in the morning. Tired, as in a guy who's given up.

She bites her bottom lip and remains silent but for her slow breathing that he hears in the phone. And then he sighs.

"You alright?" he asks softly and her voice comes out all shaky when she replies.

"No."

"You want me to come down there?"

It's almost five in the morning and he's willing to drive 123 miles just to comfort her. Even though they haven't talked in weeks, he's ready to come to her aid.

He's done nothing but tell her how he feels and she punished him for it? Was she not always preaching about not giving a fuck and always saying what was on your mind?

"No," she shakes her head, "you don't need to do that. It's late and it's a long drive."

He chuckles, and suddenly some of that tiredness is gone.

"Raye…" his voice deepens.

"What?" she sighs.

"I meant do you want me to come downstairs and get you, or are you gonna come up here to me?"

_Shit._ She's so busted. He knows her so damn well, it's terrifying. Only Brooke is supposed to be able to do that psychic shit. Not him. He's not allowed to get under her skin like this. Damn him!

"Oh," she winces at how stupid she sounds, "um…"

"Raye, come on. I'm still me, nothing is different." He tries to reassure her. "I know you're scared and I'm not trying to pressure you. I said what I said because it's how I feel. I never expected you to say it back, alright? Now come on, it's cold and it's late and I don't want you driving back with these slick roads."

And that's when it hits her like a sucker-punch in the gut.

She _loves_ him. Oh God, she loves him.

"How about –," she closes her eyes and breathes deeply, "how about you meet me half way?"

He smiles into phone, "Why don't you look to your left?"

She does and there he stands on the porch barefoot in a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt. Rachel closes her phone and slips it into her purse. Slowly she grabs her keys and shoulders her purse and then steps out of her truck. The walk across the grass feels like the longest hike of her life and when she's standing in front of him he looks down at her and says nothing.

"Say it again," she whispers.

His eyes widen and he blinks in surprise. She takes a step forward and pulls him close by the bottom of his shirt. He cups the side of her face and looks down into her eyes still slightly doubtful.

"I love you," he says.

Her eyes close and she exhales a long held breath of air from her lungs. Her heart is pounding in her ears and she just may puke, but she licks her lips and lifts up to her tip toes before pressing her mouth to his.

Diving right into that forbidden rabbit hole she pulls back and breathes, "I love you, too."

His grin makes her heart skip a beat. "Well look at that, the world didn't end," he teases her and holds her close.

And all at once it's like she's falling into the unknown even deeper. She's weightless and as much as it terrifies her, she doesn't want it any other way. So damn her insecurities, damn the nagging doubts and that damn grin of his.

Damn that rabbit hole.


	15. Wicked Games

**AN**: A week has passed and we're back with a new update. We're so thrilled to see the number of people that have joined our LJ community and we hope ya'll liked the featured chapter-picture ;)

I (Lynn) just want you guys to know how hard Elena works on all the arts and bonus stuff for this fic. She's so freakin' multitalented. So extra love to her in this update. She's my idol, muse and inspiration.

---x---

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 14: **_Wicked Games_

**Junior Year, Spring semester**

_**January 3**__**rd**_

It starts with a fire drill.

The slow demise of their usually tight-lipped affair starts with a routine fire alarm check. They're always so careful, so secretive and they always have someone as an alibi if asked of their whereabouts. But after so many months playing around, they start to get sloppy.

Safely locked inside the janitor's closet both Brooke and Nathan indulge themselves with the sweet touch of intimacy. Peyton is home sick—actually she just doesn't want to face Nathan after yet another humiliating breakup—and Lucas is still in Charlotte, not yet home from his Christmas break at his mother's relatives.

Time spent together is rare as of late because everyday Brooke starts to like Lucas more and Nathan sees her less.

She wants the _real _thing this time. He teases her whenever he sees her flirting with Lucas. To him it's a game she's bound to lose. She can't handle a long term relationship any better than he can. They haven't been together in over two weeks and just when Nathan was sure that Brooke was going to give him 'the talk,' both people in the way of their traitorous affair give him just the window he needs.

It's an opportunity Nathan cannot pass up. Even though Brooke keeps pushing him away and telling him she can't. He knows she's lying and she does too because every time she says it she pulls him back to her mouth. It's fifth period study hall, a perfect time to skip class. All he had to do was text her and now here they are shoving each other up against filthy walls and tripping over old mops and buckets.

"Do you hear something?" She pants against his neck as her tongue slides out to coat his skin with one quick flick. The sensation instinctively causes him jerk into her body and because of this she giggles.

"No," he replies barely able to form a single thought, "I don't hear anything." He covers her mouth with his.

She caresses his scalp with her fingers while her lips and tongue do wonders with his mouth. He can feel his body temperature heat up from the friction they're creating against each other.

She pulls his shirt up over his head and lightly rakes her nails down his chest. He removes her complicated shirt—blouse—whatever the hell it's called and hungrily takes in her red bra. He loves that fucking thing and to see her in it means she _knew _that they would end up alone together at some point during the day.

The thought brings a smile to his face, a fluttery feeling makes it way into his stomach. He mistakes it for lust and forcefully shoves his tongue further between her teeth. Their breathing is deep and ragged. The humidity in the small confined space is almost suffocating but it's like he's being smothered by _her _so he doesn't care. Her scent, her touch, her fiery gaze, the way she tastes… he could list everything about her that fascinates him but they only have about 20 minutes left before the bell rings.

Plus she'd laugh in his face if he even _attempted _to be romantic or anything to that nature. His mind whirls with inconsistent thoughts but all of them are focused on one thing… _her_. Her touch feels as if it causes his skin to glow with heat. Anywhere her lips touch are hot spots. Then she slows down and kisses him softly—something they've never done before. She pauses and lightly trails her finger over his mouth.

"I missed this," she whispers and licks the tip of her tongue over his lips. He tries to tell her the same but words escape him as does all intelligence whenever he's this close to her. He groans into her neck and then suddenly… he hears it.

The fire alarm.

"_Shit_," he curses, "what now?" He asks her as the sound of their classmates footsteps and laughter pass by their secret hideaway.

"I don't know," she shrugs as she fixes the straps and ribbons on her complicated top.

"What the hell are you doing?" He shouts when she reaches for the door handle. "Are you crazy? Everyone will see us!" He shoves his head through his shirt and quickly runs his hands over the wrinkles.

"And?" Brooke scoffs, "it's not like anyone important is going to see us. That's why we chose the closet by the band geeks." She reaches for the door again and turns the knob. But she doesn't open it right away, instead she turns and looks at him with wide eyes that make him gulp nervously.

"What?" He asks her not knowing if he wants to hear the answer.

"It's locked." She whispers.

He rolls his eyes, "I locked it, _remember?_"

She shakes her head, "No, I mean—_yeah_," she gulps, "but it won't _unlock_."

"Let me see that," he sighs and pushes her aside to check the lock before turning the handle. It's unlocked and the handle turns to the left just as it should. But it doesn't open. It _always _opens.

"Oh my god," Brooke starts to breathe harder, "we have to get out of here." She mutters and throws herself at the door. "_Hello?_" She bangs against the door with her hands, "can anyone hear me? Hel—"

He slaps a hand over her mouth and scowls, "The door is solid wood, no one is going to hear you." He tells her and drops his hand from her lips.

"What do you mean no one can hear us? Nathan! We have to get out of here, _I _have to get out if here!" She whirls around to pound the door again and throws in a few fruitless kicks.

"I never took you for a claustrophobic, Brooke." He smirks at her. "Relax, someone will come. The janitor will open it after school when he cleans up."

Nathan shrugs and looks around for somewhere to sit while he waits. The way he sees it, they have two hours to kill before being set free. No use freaking out over something they have no control over.

"_After school?!_" She shrieks, "I can't wait until then!"

"Deep breaths babe," he sets his hands on her shoulders, "it's okay. The room is not getting smaller…"

"I'm not claustrophobic you idiot!" She slaps his hands away from her, "I'm supposed to pick my mother up from the airport!"

"Oh, shit." Nathan gasps.

Victoria will have a fit if Brooke is late. An angry Mrs. Davis is worse than dealing with Cruella DeVil and that Devil Meets Prada bitch put together. Her patience level is practically nonexistent to begin with and it's a known fact that Brooke's mother is _always _cranky after a long flight.

Being late to pick her mother up is asking for a crucially shameful death.

"Nathan, she's already pissed off I'm spending so much time at Rachel's. I _can't _have her upset with me anymore than she already is or she won't let me go to the Classic." Brooke is seconds away from weeping.

"It's okay," he tells her, "I got uh… my cell!" He whips it out.

"We don't get reception in here, remember?" Brooke mutters and yes, now he remembers. _Shit_. "Help!" She screams and attacks the door again.

"Brooke," Nathan frowns.

"We're stuck in here! Somebody please open the door! I know you can hear—"

Suddenly the door opens and Brooke falls forward from the momentum. But Nathan reaches out quickly and jerks her backwards into his arms. She clings to him and together they watch as a group of freshmen stare back at them in shock.

Nathan steps forward with Brooke still in his grasp and points a finger in their faces, "You tell anyone you saw us and I'm coming back here and I'm kicking every one of your little asses." He barks. They flinch and nods their heads.

"_Shit_," Brooke groans into a hand. "Nathan, they're gonna tell."

"No, they won't." He says to her and looks back at the four boys who are holding various pieces of band equipment. "_Right?_" They nod and he smiles. "See?" He tugs at Brooke's waist, "now let's go."

The fire alarm still blares out overhead and they wince as they try to slyly blend in with the crowd. They _should_ split up, but she won't let go of his hand and he wants to tell her to let go but then he realizes… he doesn't want her to. He squeezes her fingers with his and lightly places his free hand against the small of her back as he follows close behind her. They walk out onto the quad and Tim starts to shout and wave them over.

Her fingers slip free from his grasp and he finds himself reaching for a phantom. She hurries over to where Bevin and Rachel are standing and he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. His eyes roam over to where Brooke is and their gazes lock. She bites her bottom lip and hesitates before looking away. He hates when she does but he knows they're already in trouble with how sloppy they're being.

It's no surprise that by the end of the day there's a rumor surfacing that they were caught in the closet together. The stories change from them both being naked and caught in the act to them fully dressed and trying to kill each other. Brooke calls him later that night freaking out because come Monday she doesn't know what the hell they're going to do.

"Relax," he mutters, "I'll just tell Peyton we were talking about her." His words come out so smooth and easy that even _he _believes that she'll buy it himself.

"What about Lucas?" She blurts and he grimaces. What _about_ that loser?

"Tell him the same," he mumbles, "that way when the rumors go around Peyton will know that they're just rumors blown way out of proportion." He changes the phone to his other ear and drops a plate of bagel bites into the microwave. "Okay?"

Brooke's end is silent for a while and he counts the seconds that go by without her response by staring at the timer on the microwave. _27 _seconds go by and then she takes a deep breath and mutters, "Maybe… I mean everyone knows I always yell at you whenever you're being an ass to her."

He smirks, "Yeah, why do you think I've been doing it so much lately?" he teases her and watches his food heat up.

"We're getting sloppy Nathan," she sighs. He holds his breath wearily waiting for her to end their fun and instead she says, "We need to be more careful."

He exhales feeling instantly relieved, "Yeah, I know."

"I gotta go, my mom's making me go shopping with her for some stupid dress." She mutters annoyed.

He pokes at his food to see if it's hot enough and frowns when it burns his finger, "For that charity thing next weekend?" He sucks on his wounded fingertip then pulls his plate out. It's more than done and the cheese oozes over the sides of the little mini bagels.

"Yeah," she says sounding surprised, "are you going?"

He nods, "Yep. Dad made me pick up our tuxes last week."

"Well, well…" she chuckles huskily, "maybe this won't be such a bad event after all." She teases him with another rough and raspy giggle. "I'll be sure to have fun while I shop for something to wear."

The image of her in various gowns pops into his head and Nathan licks his lips eagerly. Lifting one of his pizza bagels up he crunches into it and chews. "Oh, and Brooke?" He says before they end the call.

"Yes?" She mutters in annoyance, she hates when people chew in her ear.

He swallows his food and grumbles, "Make sure it's not so damn complicated to take off."

---x---

_**January 5****th**_

The ride to Park Meadow Drive is long and boring. It leaves her with nothing but Brooke's shitty taste in music—because of course she's filled her glove box full of her own crap CD's—her cigarettes and her thoughts. The last thing is what she's more afraid of, she doesn't want to think at all. This entire ride was just to get her mind _off _of shit.

Her parents are being major a-holes. They wont stop bugging her about choosing a career so that they can donate to whatever college is best. She'd feel slightly warm and fuzzy inside if she didn't know the real reason behind it. Like the fact that they can walk around with their friends and gloat that their precious baby is going to Princeton, Harvard or Yale.

What they don't know is that she's not even sure if college is for her. The idea of higher learning in her vocabulary is an eighth of cannabis fire and some papers. She really can't wait to get to where she's going.

She's usually not so damn uptight but lately her senses have been all over the place. She trusts no one at this point, not even Owen. He's recently set a 'no sex before a game' rule into effect, due to the fact that his coach said he needed more aggression on the field. Perhaps it's her lack of sexual contact, or the fact that she walked in on Brooke and Lucas the night before doing unnatural things to each other in her parents Jacuzzi. Either way, she's on edge and she has no outlet.

Well, _almost _no outlet.

Her heels clank against the hard concrete as she quickly walks across the parking lot at the Park Meadow Apartment Complex. She usually doesn't travel alone when she goes on a run for weed but Bevin is stuck in a family dinner, Lucas is back from Charleston so Brooke is busy being a whore, and Owen just doesn't approve. She could have possibly called Nathan, but the idea that she had no one else to call makes her feel as if she needs to re-examine her friendship phone-tree.

She knocks once on the door, twice on the window and then she stands back and waits for the door to creak open. She doesn't recognize the face that peaks through the crack in the door but she knows that voice she hears in the background. Low, raspy and melodious. If she weren't so head over damn heels for Owen she'd be fucking that boy by the end of the night.

"Let me in," she tells the dweeb at the door, "I'm a friend of Keller's."

"Ray-Ray?" Chris drops his guitar and stands up from the couch, "move it Sheldon, that's Rachel Gatina! Hottest redhead in all 5o states!"

"You're such a loser, Chris." She shakes her head but she smiles when he comes over and hugs her.

"What's troubling you, Ray-Ray? Don't say nothing, I can see it in your face." He touches her nose with a finger and winks. "You know what? It don't matter. I'm gonna make it allll better." Chris grins.

She knows he can, she knows he _will_. She just wishes she could have that extra release afterwards.

"Let's get fucked up."

She sighs and nods her head as he leads her into one of the backrooms. It smells like cigarette's and Lysol in the house despite the cinnamon incense that burn. She can remember a time when this apartment used to be a second home. Had she and Brooke not met, Rachel's not sure where she'd be right now.

But standing with Chris, she can remember how it felt to not care about anything or anyone. She kind of misses that, it hurt less when she got disappointed. His hand slides south of the borders she now has up and she slaps it away.

"Sorry CK," she smirks, "no trespassing."

"Tina,_ nooo_," he groans and drops his hand from her waist. They enter his room and she shuts the door behind herself. Chris goes to his dresser and pulls out a ziplock bag that contains the very thing she's here for.

"He treat you good?" Chris peaks over his shoulder and sprinkles some green onto a tray.

She nods, "Yeah, he does."

He sighs and holds the dish out for her to break it apart and roll. He puts his stash back into his drawer and turns around to shake his head at her. "Rachel Gatina, _girlfriend_." He chuckles. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"You and me both," she scoffs and licks her tongue across the thin rice paper. "Man Kel, why are you being such a cheap hooker? You know I like smoking out of a gutted cigar wrap. These joint papers burn too fast." She frowns down at her mini creation.

"So what? They all spark the same," he flicks his lighter, "and you wont need no more than three big hits. Trust me." He laughs.

"Never," she shakes her head teasing him as she slips out of her heels and curls up in the corner of his bed with her lit joint. "Hey, man. Did you hear that the Brookie Monster has a boyfriend too nowadays?"

She knows that if Brooke were in the room she'd throw a fit about how Luke was _not _her boyfriend, but Rachel knows better. She'd denied Owen for so long she can see the signs. Lucas is one more bust away from saying 'I love you' and when that happens Rachel knows Brooke will be done for.

Then it's bye-bye Nathan, hello love with Lucas.

"Whaa?" Chris' eyes go wide, "What the hell is in your damn water? Cuz the two girls _I _know wouldn't go near a committed relationship if her life depended on it." He snorts and jumps onto the bed, "_Pass the Dutchie on the left hand side_," he sings in a fake Jamaican accent, "_It a gonna burn, give me music make me jump and prance_."

She grimaces down at him from her perch at the head of the bed and exhales into a major coughing fit, "You are beyond weird, Keller. And you aren't even high yet!" She kicks a bare foot at him and giggles when he reaches for the smoke.

"_It a go done, give me the music make me rock in the dance!_" He sings just before he inhales. She laughs hysterically at the faces he makes as he chokes on the toxins in his lungs and crawls over his chest to take the joint from between his fingers.

"_Pass the Dutchie on the left hand side_," she sings the Musical Youth cover song and they both go rolling off the bed they laugh so hard.

After the past weeks of emotional drainage, this is exactly the escape she needed.

---x---

_**January 6****th**_

Her car is flawless, a 1963 Mercury Comet Convertible. It shines like a star in the sky and is just as dark as the black that centers her blue eyes. He loves being with Brooke but there will always be that little itch inside of him that will want to be scratched when it came to Peyton Sawyer.

"That's me inside your head." He says rounding the back end of her Comet on his way back to his uncle's tow truck.

"What?" She scowls.

"NOFX." He points to her notebook. "That's me inside your head, it's the lyrics from—"

"I know the song." She rolls her eyes.

"Okay then," he nods. She's obviously in a pretty pissy mood and based on the stories Brooke's told him, he doesn't want to push her buttons.

So he hooks her car up to the tow truck and watches in the corner of his eye as she argues with Nathan on her cell phone. It's been weeks since his little slap fight with his half-brother and yet just thinking about it revs him up all over again.

He doesn't understand what Peyton sees in Nathan, and he thinks that she's as bitter as she is because of him.

"Well, sucks to be you!" He hears her shout out before closing her phone and throwing it into her backseat.

"Listen, are you sure you got a ride? I mean, I can wait if you want." He offers because he's Lucas and it's what he does. "I don't have to meet Brooke for another hour or so." He shrugs.

"Yeah," she snorts, "that's what I want. Listen, have your dad call me with an estimate." She waves her hand at him dismissively. She's not in the mood to play right now, Nathan's been blowing hot and cold ever since they last 'broke up' and she's really getting sick of his mood swings.

"My uncle?" Lucas corrects her with a small laugh.

"If that's your story." She mumbles and leans against her car. She contemplates calling Nathan one more time, because if he really wanted to blow practice he could. Since when did he pass up the opportunity to piss off Dan?

"Can I ask you a question?" Lucas pipes into her thoughts.

"It's a free country." She mutters with disinterest.

"Why are you a cheerleader?" He asks and she turns her head to look at him in surprise. "No offense or anything, but you're about the least cheery person I know." He says and sticks his hands into his back pockets.

He really is adorable, she thinks. He has that small town country boy look about him down to a tee.

"Well, we can't all be like your girlfriend." She grunts and frowns at the very idea of having to smile and laugh as much at the dimpled brunette does.

Lucas gives a dopey grin and doesn't bother to correct her about the 'girlfriend' title, "Yes well, Brooke's personality is definitely something that can't be duplicated."

She scoffs, "Definitely not. What kind of world would we live in if everyone shared as much cheer as Brooke? I don't think there could ever be a single thought processed without having to stop and giggle first."

"Nah," he laughs, "alright, come on." He rolls his eyes and nods his head towards the truck, completely missing the fact that she's just insulted his girlfriend. "Let me give you a ride. I'll let you insult me."

He tries to tempt her and fails.

"How about no," she snaps.

"Why not?"

"First of all, you don't know me." She scowls in her usual bitch fashion. "Second of all? You don't know me."

He laughs and she groans at how clueless he is. She's just given him a tiny window of opportunity for escape and he's so stupidly walked right past it. Can he not see how _messed up _she is? Does he really want to go down this road with her?

The look in his eyes tells her he really is _that _naïve, and she wonders what box his mother has kept him in for so long that he's just now starting to get a real glimpse at the world. Damn him for his innocence. _Damn _him for being so fucking pure and light of heart.

Why couldn't Nathan be like him? Why couldn't Dan have chosen Karen? Then maybe Nathan would be the one standing in front of her with those innocent blue eyes instead of blowing her off to chase after a rubber ball.

"God, why are guys such jerks?!" She shouts hating how selfish her quasi-boyfriend can be. Was it too much to ask for him to freaking come and get her? Did he not think she would compensate him for his good deed? She has needs too, damn it.

"Guys or Nathan?" Lucas asks and sets his hand onto his truck for balance.

"Him. You." She shrugs not caring how he takes her words. "Why do you guys walk around as if the world is yours for the taking?"

"I don't know," he starts feeling somewhat confused of her question, "we share the same father." He offers an answer and lifts his shoulder.

"Yeah, everyone at school has already passed that little secret around a few times." She smirks. "He's kind of an ass. So that must suck, having to see him around."

"For my mom. I never knew him." He tells her.

"But she told you he was your dad?" She asks him curiously.

"Yeah, eventually." He nods and looks down at the floor.

"I never asked, but…" she pauses and takes one step towards him and the truck, "how is it being on the team now?"

Lucas chuckles to himself and they share a look that says they both know it's been hell. Nathan's never been one to play nice with others and his sense of sharing is almost nonexistent. Peyton's positive he's never going to change.

"We used to play in junior leagues together—me and Nathan." His gaze rises up to catch hers.

"Basketball?" Her brow arches.

"Yeah," he nods, "and I loved it, and I was good at it." He stops and looks away from her out towards the back road fields before returning back to her face, "You ever have something that you knew that you were better at than almost anybody else?"

"Sex." She states as if it's a fact and when he blinks in confusion she rolls her eyes and says, "Joke."

"Anyway," he shakes his head and continues his story, "Guys kept teasing me about it, about how Nathan's dad was my dad, too. So I asked my mom, and she said he wasn't. But I get home, and I hear her crying in her room. I knew it was true. So I never went back. I told my mom it was because I didn't want to have to see his face. But... It was mostly because... I didn't want her to have to."

She's almost certain this is something he's never shared with Brooke. It makes her excited to think that they now have something between them, something secret that connects them together. She almost ruins it by playing the sympathy card in order to lure him in. But she doesn't, because if she's going to play with him then she has to go slow and she has to be honest.

Well, as honest as she can be considering she's going to eventually chew him up and spit him out once he's lost his flavor.

"So, why'd you just tell me all that?" She asks in all sincerity, she at least wants to know why he's suddenly so eager to share such intimate information with her. "I mean, we don't even know each other."

And Lucas merely gives her that small side smile of his, "Maybe that's the point."

She licks her lips, "So," she swallows, "you think I can get a ride?"

He nods with a smile, "Get in."

---x---

She hates how the numbers don't add up no matter how hard she tries. However way she puts it, the stupid problem won't make sense.

_A pharmacist has 8 liters of a 15 percent solution of acid. How much distilled water must he add to reduce the concentration of acid to 10 percent?_

Why the hell would a pharmacist walk around with 8 liters of acid anyway? Because he's an idiot? Because he's selling it illegally?

She sighs loudly and throws the pen down into her book in frustration. Schoolwork seriously sucks.

"Come on B, stop with the act will you?" Rachel whines from over where she's sitting.

"Lucas isn't around. Come watch TV."

She looks up at the couple on couch and it feels good to see Rachel sprawled all over Owen like she used to before their little 'break'. But at the mention of Lucas' name, Brooke frowns and turns back to her algebra homework. She needs to finish it because she had told Lucas earlier that she had already done this assignment. If she hadn't lied, he would never have gone to the movies with her last night.

"Later, Raye…" she mutters and chews on the back of her pen.

"Why are you doing that anyway?" Rachel keeps teasing. "I thought you had a good routine going in Math with just copying my answers?"

Owen scolds Rachel with a single look and when the redhead gets ready to fire back, he simply mutters; "Maybe you should just concentrate on the TV, Raye? If Brooke wants to learn, then that's good, don't you think?"

Rachel pouts. "Of course, but she's just doing it to impress _Lucas_ 'the all mighty bookworm'. Isn't that right B?"

"Fuck you, Rachel."

Her response has a little too much edge to it. She's not sure why because she knows that Rachel doesn't mean any harm. Its just that in a way – she's not exactly sure how – Raye's teasing is hitting a little too close to home. Blushing she picks her pen back up and stares at the notes in vain.

Then suddenly Owen is right beside her and he slips down on the chair next to hers.

"Don't listen to her, Brookie," he soothes and slides her book closer to himself. "She's just crabby because I'm making her watch football." He winks and a second later the expected snort comes from over at the couch. "I'll help you out," he adds, "Let's see what we've got here. I rock at Algebra."

Rachel chuckles and the sound of the football game disappears only to be replaced by some soap. Owen ignores her and Brooke desperately tries to do the same. She shouldn't be annoyed with Rachel. This is what they do. It's just getting to her that her redheaded friend has a point. Usually she doesn't _care_ about stuff like this.

"Okay, so you begin with 8 liters of a 15 percent solution, right?" Owen urges and pokes her in the side. "Which means you have 15 percent acid and 85 percent water. So what you need to figure out is how many liters of acid and water you have to begin with…"

He starts scribbling down numbers in her notebook and she smiles at his sloppy handwriting. Who knew that the boy had skills?

"15 percent of 8 is 1.2 liters," he mumbles, "So you've got 1.2 liters of acid and 6.8 liters of…"

He keeps talking but again the numbers seem to float together and she tries her absolute hardest to follow his explanation. At one point it actually makes sense but then he writes down some kind of formula and she's just as lost as she was before.

"'Kay, so the amount of acid will remain constant… you're only changing the amount of water…"

Although nodding as if understanding, her mind wanders and her eyes stray over to the TV-screen. She tries to stay focused but Rachel's teasing has made her lose her chain of thought and even with Owen helping, she can't quite find her way back to her concentration.

"It's okay, O," she mumbles and pulls her knees up to her chest. "I'll just finish this later."

She'll just grab Rachel's notes and copy them. Maybe her mom was right when she kept saying that she wasn't bright enough.

Owen gives her a questioning glance but when she keeps watching the TV, he leaves her alone. And at first she feels a little bad for him who's now caught watching the Hills but he just smirks and settles back down next to Rachel.

He gave away the remote but the way his hand slides up and down the redhead's thigh, tells her that he doesn't really feel the loss too badly. He even seems to know the characters on the show.

"Aw, _man_…" he mutters and runs his other hand through Rachel's fiery locks of hair. "How can Lauren _not_ see that the dude is crushing on her?"

The scene on the TV is clearly a love triangle and the longer Brooke watches the more annoyed she gets. The girl should see how much boy 1 is in love with her and yet she's messing around behind his back with boy 2. Sure, the second boy is hot and all but just like Owen says; he's clearly playing the girl.

And she's just about to voice her opinion when it dawns on her that _she_ is the girl. She gasps and when Rachel looks up from the TV, she ducks her back into the algebra book that she gave up on just minutes ago.

She pretends to be back to studying but her mind keeps spinning. She's screwing over Boy 1, Lucas, and for what? Boy 2? _Nathan?_ She nibbles her bottom lip and then forces herself to concentrate back on the math problem. Tries to finish her homework but it's hard when her mind keeps drifting elsewhere. Why the hell is Boy 2 such a hard habit to break? And why hasn't Lucas called her? His shift at the Body Shop should be over by now.

Rachel sighs and leans closer to Owen who keeps talking to the TV. She's not oblivious to the entire war brewing inside of her best friend's head and if it weren't for the fact that she's already pissed off Brooke tonight, she would tease her friend for the coincidental , yet _very_ obvious, resemblance between her friend's Scott-boy sandwich and a reality soap.

"Brookie, come sit with us," she pleads because she knows that Brooke is brooding. "I'll help you out with the Algebra later, 'kay?"

It pains her that she can't untangle the web that her best friend has made for herself. Nathan… Lucas… its all just a paved road straight to heartbreak.

But Brooke gathers her books and shrugs.

"It's fine, Raye. I'm just gonna go to bed."

She watches as the brunette disappears up the stairs and then she looks up into Owens brown eyes.

"You know that that shit's going to blow up in her face eventually, right?" he mumbles and all she can do is nod.

It's gonna be quite the explosion, she's sure.

---x---

_**January 7**__**th**_

Haley watches the quad intimately as she quietly sits eating her lunch. It's almost like watching an episode of some TV teen drama series. Young, fresh and vibrant faces. Secrets, lies and betrayal. Yep, it's all the makings of one hell of a MTV reality show.

She hates that her lunches have come to this, sitting alone watching other people. But Lucas doesn't sit with her anymore and she refuses to go and sit with him. He's changing, and as much as she would like to stop it, she knows she can't. It's a transformation he has to go through alone, she's just worried about where it will leave her in the end.

Yet despite all the inner demons threatening to consume her whole, she still watches them. It's actually really quite interesting to see how the 'popular people' interact, because its so blatantly obvious that half of them hate the other half and vice versa. She loves the animosity of it all, however. It's amazing to see how ironic teenage life can be when left up to interpretation.

Take Peyton, for example. She sits at the end of the lunch table, closed off and alone with an almost hateful look in her eyes. Rachel, on the other hand just watches everyone. As if she's surveying for a plan of attack in case of emergency. Her eyes are religiously trained to Peyton, however, and the blonde sketches on completely unaware of her observer.

Rachel's eyes scan the crowd once again and suddenly they fall on Haley. Surprised to be caught staring Haley quickly looks away and down at her open textbook on the table. She counts to fifteen then looks back up and sure enough Rachel has moved on to searching the quad.

Haley wonders if Rachel will ever find whatever it is she is adamantly looking for. Because she's missing the very thing she _should _be aware of and isn't. Peyton is watching, it's subtle but it's there, slow and calculating. For what, Haley's not sure but it still sends a chill down her spine.

Brooke is so blissfully unaware of the war tactics going on around her and Lucas is too naïve to notice either. As an outsider looking in, Haley wonders who has the advantage in the group of chosen ones. Who is the weakest link? Who can survive all the way until graduation with their soul still intact?

Peyton, the one who pretends to care less what happens around her, but actually does. Rachel, the one who watches everything in order to suffice a foolproof plan to remain at the top. Brooke, who is neither ignorant nor innocent. Nathan, who really doesn't care, never has and never will yet will forever remain blessed. Lucas, who still has one foot in and one foot out…

Or Haley, the only person who really _is _pure and innocent?

Thoughts race around her mind as she contemplates these imminent ideas and whispering words of fear. When did high school get so messed up? She grabs her water bottle and takes a sip, all the while her eyes watch her best friend for any signs of corruption. Then again, she hasn't a clue what to do if she does find something wrong with him.

"Wondering what it's like on the inside, James?" Nathan's teasing tone tickles her ear as he whispers mocking words to her.

Her breath catches in her throat, surprise is written on her face but the blush that flushes her cheeks has nothing to do with it. Quickly she starts to gather her things to leave and rolls her eyes when he hands her one of her notebooks. She wants to wipe that smug face of his clean but she's terrified of the _way _she imagines doing so.

"No wait," he pulls her back, "check it out."

She pauses as he pulls out some folded paper from his back pocket. When he holds it up she sees that it's his latest history test, B-.

"Oh my gosh, Nathan that's great!" She cries out and in her excitement she involuntarily reaches out and hugs him.

Nathan just smiles and embraces her back, making sure to dig his face in her hair as he does so. She smells like some kind of fruity apricot lotion and he chuckles at the thought of her ever spritzing on an expensive designer perfume. She's so unlike Brooke and definitely not like Peyton. But she's still soft and she still gives him a chubby regardless of who she is.

And just when they're about to pull apart, he looks up and sees someone watching them. Eyes narrow as they stare back at Nathan with a pure look of hatred. He smirks back at the pair of blue eyes and pulls Haley in for a closer hug.

"It's all because of you, Haley." He murmurs into her ear and when she shivers in his arms he tries not to laugh.

He has her right where he wants her, and now as he pulls back from Haley and looks out at those watchful eyes at the table…

He knows he has Lucas too.

---x---

Either Nathan's turning into a wimp, or he's honestly starting to lose his mind. Because he's still a little pissed at Owen for not agreeing to help him convince Brooke and Rachel to go on a road trip to Charleston. It would have been awesome to be able to be with Brooke without having to worry about 'being caught.' She's getting more paranoid and she's also getting more attached to the Lucas.

Which means less time with Nathan.

He knows he has to apologize to Owen soon or risk losing his friendship and that's not something Nathan wants to lose. Because being friends with the big oaf is one of the highlights of his shitty life lately. It's always good to have a friend who can make him talk about his problems and find a solution all on his own without said 'friend' ever having uttered a single word to begin with.

He's like freaking Yoda or something.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Lucas shouts and shatters what was once Nathan's inner thoughts. Then before Nathan can react he's being slammed up against his locker in the boy's gym room.

"I'm really glad you just did that." Nathan smirks and rears back a fist that collides with Luke's chin.

Lucas stumbles back in surprise and Nathan rushes into him like he's about to tackle him to the ground. He can hear the guys shouting out encouragement and some are telling them to stop. Lucas shoves a fist into Nathan's gut and the grunt that slips out his brothers mouth brings a smile to his face.

But Nathan recovers quickly and throws another punch that knocks Lucas on his ass. Lucas scrambles to get back on his feet and when he does he jabs a hit in Nathan's midsection and gets tackled to the floor again.

"Enough!" Whitey roars as he walks in upon the fight.

Nathan rolls away from Lucas and holds his hands up at his sides to show his coach that he's done fighting. Breathless and angry, Lucas does the same and tries to wait out the extra adrenaline in his system.

"Stay away from Haley," he growls at Nathan. "I mean it."

"Or what? You gonna let me beat your ass again?" Nathan grunts and shakes his head. "I'm not doing anything wrong so get over yourself. You wanted in my world, Luke. Well it goes both ways man, you crossover? _I _crossover." He smirks. "And Haley is a really fine—"

"You son of a bitch!" Lucas dives forward and gets pulled back by Jake.

"Calm down man, Whitey will have your ass." Jake tries to reason with the eldest Scott son.

"I already have his ass," Whitey snips, "now get _both _your asses in my office—_now!_"

Dan's gonna take his head off for this, Nathan knows he will. Whatever Whitey dishes out can't be half as bad as what his own father is going to do. Brooke will castrate him for touching her precious little toy and Peyton will call him a jerk and refuse to sleep with him for a few days.

He's not sure how Haley will react. Because honestly Lucas started it by putting his hands on Nathan first. Not that anyone will see it that way. Because Lucas is the good son and Nathan is the evil one. He knows how people view them, even though they say Lucas is the bastard son they still view him as the better specimen.

They sit in coaches office and endure every grunt, snort and scoff he throws their way. Every disappointed glare, every harsh and angry word. Lucas sinks down lower and lower in his seat while Nathan leans back casually awaiting the end of Whitey's rant. When they're suspended for next weeks game Nathan rolls his eyes because he knows damn well it's a lie.

Maybe for _Lucas_ he'll be warming the bench but Nathan will be up and running across the court. Dan will throw a fit and in the end he will get his way and Nathan will play. Even Lucas seems to know this because when they're dismissed he purposely rams his shoulder into Nathan's on his way out the locker room.

Halfway through the parking lot, Nathan swears he smells Brooke's perfume. But that's crazy because cheer practice has been over for almost twenty minutes and Brooke is sure to be kissing Luke's ass right about now. He scowls down at the keys in his hands and presses the button to unlock his doors. His jaw is sore and his knuckles are screaming at him for what he's done.

"Hey," Brooke's voice startles him and seconds later his open car door slams shut before he can get inside. "So I hear you got yourself into a little scuffle today during practice." She steps in closer and he turns to lean his back up against his truck.

"Yeah? What of it?" He mutters, she has an agenda and he's going to wait to see how it plays out first before he reacts.

"Come on Nate," she grins and trails a finger down his chest, "we both know what you're doing." She shrugs.

"What's that?" He crosses his arms over his chest.

She steps into the space between his legs and sighs, "You thought you could have me all to yourself and it is just _killing _you that I'm not hung up on you." She presses her palms to his chest and leans in closer, "Isn't it?" She teases.

"Aren't you afraid lover boy will see you all pressed up on me?" Nathan attempts to swindle his way out of her web. But she's grabbing at him from all angles and he's trapped. What a fool he'd been to ever think he could just walk right on through without being caught.

She chuckles huskily and bunches his shirt up into her little fists, "I'm going to be with Lucas now," she snaps fiercely, "deal with it." She releases him with a glare.

"Your relationship is a joke," he spits out back into her face, "does he even really know you? Or does he just know what you _want _him to know?"

"We're done," she growls.

"Now where have I heard this before?" Nathan taps his chin in thought. "Oh yeah, from Peyton—but wait! I've heard it from you too!" his eyes widen in mock-surprise.

Brooke swings a curled fist that hits him in his shoulder and he winces in pain because of the fall from his earlier fight with Lucas. She calls him a bunch of colorful names and to him they all sound the same because they go in one ear and out the other. Even she knows he's not listening. Because she hits him again and a whole new round of words come flying out her mouth until he silences her by shoving his lips over hers.

But the kiss only lasts a few seconds before she shoves him away and slaps him across the face. They stand there breathing heavily in the school parking lot that's barley lit by one lone street lamp a few feet away. Then she steps back and shakes her head at him.

"You are such a jerk." She whispers.

"And you are so naive," he scoffs, "he is nothing but a huge disappointment waiting to happen. You're going to regret him and you know it. I'm warning you on this Brooke, get out while you can."

"Why are you going through so much trouble to make me think he's a loser? It's not like you care about anyone but yourself anyways! So don't stand there and pretend you have a beating heart behind those steal bars you call a ribcage." Brooke scowls at him angrily.

"You're right," he grunts, "I _don't _care."

"Then leave Lucas alone," comes her warning growl, "and leave me alone too for that matter." She shakes her head and starts to back away from him.

"You don't mean that," Nathan replies as he stretches his arms above his head.

And as she walks away, she hates the chuckle that he produces through those full lips of his. Because in a way, he's right. She doesn't mean half of what she says when she tells him he has no heart.

But she wasn't lying when she said to leave her alone.

---x---

Less than 4 hours ago she was fighting with Nathan over this. But now that she's had that time to think everything over, she's positive that this is what she wants. Lucas is everything she needs and then some. He can make her better and she can make him stronger. Together they can achieve so much and become the ultimate power couple.

Her mind is running almost faster than her speeding heart rate. Thoughts blur into the next as a new one forms just seconds after the previous. She's so excited that things are going good with Lucas. They're connecting on so many different levels it makes her heart swell. She's never felt like this before. What is it called?

Her feet move swiftly across the grass on his front lawn and then before she knows it she's in his room. He's at his computer desk working on a school paper and when the back door opens it breaks his thought process.

"So I had an idea," she starts and hurries over to hop into his lap so that they're facing each other.

"Okay," he replies wearily, the edge of his lip is scabbed from the punch he took just the night before.

She sighs and runs her finger over the wound with a small frown before she leans down and presses her lips to it softly. "I'm sorry about all this," she whispers.

Lucas blinks at her confused, "For what? The fight? Why?"

She shrugs, "Just cuz," she shakes her head and clears her mind. "So anyways, remember when I read that Steinberg book?" She looks down at him, purposely flubbing the authors name.

"Steinbeck," he corrects her. Which is exactly what she had anticipated.

She grins, "Yeah, that guy." Her hands slide his chest and pull his collar towards her slightly, "And then you did something that I wanted?"

"Oh yeah, yeah," comes his immediate response, "Getting drunk, tattooed and grounded?" he reminds her with a grunt.

She gives an innocent smile, "But in a fun way?" Her fingers release his collar and go for his hair, "I'm thinking we should try that again…" Her tongue flicks out to coat her lips.

"Okay, you might want to run that by Keith first." Lucas nods his head and stares into her eyes with sarcasm.

He loves being with her but he wishes she would tone it down a bit, he doesn't like seeing her try so hard. He just wants to be with her, they don't have to do anything as long as they're together, right?

"Not exactly that," she tells him to help make him relax, "I just… I want to know everything about you." Her smile is so beautiful he can help but give one back. "And I want you to know," she hesitates, "_almost_ everything about me?"

_God_, she hates how ridiculous that sounded. But she knows that in order to not lose Lucas she needs to do two things. The first is to let him in, hence this little suggestion. The second thing is still a work in progress.

His face softens and his hands slides up her sides gradually, "What's going on Brooke?" he asks her in concern. One hand rising up to move her hair aside so that he can better look into her eyes.

"Nothing," she lies, "I just..."

"_Your relationship is a joke," Nathan spat back into her face, "does he even really know you? Or does he just know what you want him to know?"_

"I want to know you better Luke." She's vastly nearly vulnerability by the second with each word that slips out her mouth.

"So how about," she starts up again, "the next time you do something you love, you bring me along—and then we trade?" Her fingers glide through his hair and caress the back of his scalp, "Are you busy after practice tomorrow?" She bites her lip in wait.

"Yeah," he sighs and she frowns, "I have a date with you." He surprises her and she grins down at him happily. He leans forward and she closes the gap between them to engage in one of the most intimate kisses of her life.

She knows what this feeling in her stomach must be, people write songs about it and poetry and movies and books… she thinks she's falling for him.

_Big time._

---x---

* * *

---x---

**Thank you's**:

Lizzy; Awesome review girl! And soo long. It's nice to know that writing this long of a text kept you away from forks and permanent markers and swallowing bugs. Thank you for being such a sweetheart. We love you, little one.

JustNothing: Props for trying twice to push through what you wanted to say. The site is hopeless when it cuts reviews like that. Its happened to us too. Thank you for reading and reviewing. We love it.

AllBrahtan: True BN fan huh? LOL. We love your reviews. Thank you.

Cibele; Yay! You found our story. :D And the review was top-notch. This chapter still has a few mentions from the real show but as we go along, those will be less and less. This is just junior year ;) Gotta say though that it feels frickin' great to have a true NHer ship Nathan with Brooke. And we love you for loving RO. Sadly Elena doesn't have her videomaker program anymore but there'll be other goodies…

Firenza: Aww that's exactly the way we want you guys to feels about RO. Thanks for making us happy. :D

Intothepalemoon: You've gotten to the core of the story and you seem to see what we write between the lines. Cudos for that ;) We're happy to hear that you're enjoying the story and the triangle and we hope that we can keep you interested all the way to the end. Tank you.

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: Was the post soon enough for ya? LOL. We're happy that you like all the ships. Thank you for reviewing.

Rachtree: We're sad to disappoint you but NR won't have a romantic relationship in this fic. There will however be some awesome scenes with them so we hope you'll keep reading. Regarding the things that was scaring you? Follow your gut. You seem to have good instincts. ;)

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	16. Famous Last Words

**AN**: Hey guys. Last weeks update didn't happen, and those of you who're members on our LJ know why. We've decided to cut down on all the lengthy authors notes here and instead post the crucial info on that site. The link for the LJ is in our profile. Now, enjoy ;)

---x---

Part 1: _Teenage Wasteland_

---x---

**Chapter 15: **_Famous Last Words_

**Junior Year**

_**January 8**__**th**_

She's starting to think that this was a bad idea.

When Lucas called that morning to suggest 'doing something together' she expected it to require a lot less clothes and talking. Instead she's sitting in a smelly old theatre 54 seats back while some old dude with wire rimmed glasses lectures on and on about classic American literature. She knows this is something Lucas obviously finds meaningful or whatever. She _did _ask him to bring her along the next time he does something he likes.

But this is fucking _boring_.

The only interesting part of the lecture so far had been during the slideshow when a picture of Ernest Hemmingway in a WWI uniform flashed across the screen. Her interest had peaked at the sheer handsomeness of him and she wonders how a guy that hot could still make her want to bang her head against the back of the chair in front of her.

Perhaps identifying with that E. E. Cummings poem with Lucas had been a bad idea. She's obviously given him the wrong idea about how she views these sorts of topics.

"Two of America's _greatest _19th-century poets could hardly have been more different in temperament and style. For example, Walt Whitman was a working man, a traveler, a self-appointed nurse during the American Civil War, and a poetic innovator."

_Good lord was he still talking?!_

"Emily Dickinson, however, lived the sheltered life of a genteel unmarried woman in small-town Amherst, Massachusetts." The professor smirked at the crowd.

"Why is he smirking?" Brooke snorts out loud and Lucas merely chuckles and pats his hand against her thigh lightly.

The friction of his hand against her jeans warms her leg and sends tiny currents of lustful electricity throughout her body. She scoots closer in her seat and proceeds to nuzzle his neck and when her lips touch his jaw he smiles and pecks her mouth once then stares forward again. Brooke tries again to entice his attention her way and gets shot down a second time.

"Brooke, come on," he says to her calmly and pushes the hair back from her face to stare into her eyes, "I thought you wanted to spend time together?"

"I did," she sighs, "I mean I _do_, but Luke," she pauses with a pout, "I thought that meant doing some more… _productive_," she bites her bottom lip and leans in to kiss him again.

He gives in for a few seconds then gently pulls away and smiles at her with those two soft blue eyes of his, "Maybe I'm saving that part for later?"

She giggles huskily and slings her legs up over his knee, "How about right now?"

"Brooke," he uses his 'disappointed' voice on her and she sighs deeply and slinks back into her seat. "Now you're mad," he mutters, "great."

"I'm not mad," she replies softly while she stares forward at the man at the podium, "now please stop talking because I am trying to listen."

She can sense him watching her but she keeps her eyes trained at the lecturing professor. He'll come around, she's sure of it. She counts silently in her mind and less then ten seconds after turning away from him, Lucas' hand comes to rest on her thigh.

"Hey…" he whispers and she waits another beat before she looks at him in pretend confusion.

"What?" she mouths silently and his lips curve into a smile.

"Nothing," he mumbles back and his hand slides higher on her leg. "I just wanna kiss you."

_Gotcha, broody!_

She holds back the smirk that threatens to form on her face and steals one last glance at the talking man in the front of the room.

"Well, okay then," she breathes and leans in to brush her lips against his.

She's actually a bit surprised at the ferocity with which he kisses her back and she lets the smile come anyway. However, that stupid, little nagging voice in the back of her head won't shut up.

_How long can you keep him interested with kisses and flirty antics? _

She can't help it that it makes her a little worried.

---x---

_**January 9**__**th**_

"Rachel!" Bevin waves her hand about excitedly once she spots the tall red head in the halls, "Come here!" Her eyes widen even more and her grin grows so large it looks almost abnormal.

But she goes to her anyways, because out of all the cheerleaders—besides Brooke of course—Bevin is the only one she can stand. Sure the girl is one can short of a six-pack but she's nice and she makes her laugh. Which is exactly what Rachel does when she walks up at Bevin's locker and sees what it is that's got the Mirskey girl's attention.

"Bev, you have _got _to be kidding me." She shakes her head in complete astonishment.

"What?" Bevin shrugs, "He's cute! Go see if he likes me!" She shoves Rachel forward towards the river court rat pack.

"Ew, no!" Rachel scowls and slaps her hands away from her arm. "It's bad enough I have to pretend to like Lucas. No way will I ever go up and talk to his friends _willingly_."

Bevin frowns, "But I like—"

"_No_," Rachel snaps, "you do _not _like Skills."

"Skills! That's what they call him, right?" Her face lights up happily. "I was calling him Mc-So-Damn-Fine," she sighs wistfully. "Oh my gosh, his friend is walking this way! Go talk to him, _please _Rachel. I'd do it for you!"

"I wouldn't _ask _you to do something so disgusting,l" Rachel mumbles under her breath and steps forward to stop the one with the nice lips. "Hey," she says hooking her finger in the loop on his backpack to stop him, "Lips, I gotta ask you something."

"It's _Mouth_," he corrects her with a droll stare. It's as if he's so used to having people make this mistake and the answer just comes out automatic.

"Whatever," she shakes her bangs from her face, "look, what's up with Skills? Is he seeing anybody?"

"Skills? Uh, n-no?" Mouth stutters as he talks to the sexy bombshell before him. "Why? Do you, uh, do you like him?"

Rachel holds back a laugh and it causes her to snort, "That would be a _no_, but my friend Bevin does. You think he's be interested?"

"In a cheerleader? Do you need to ask?" Mouth scoffs.

She smirks, "Guess not. So how do we go about setting them up? Is he cool with a blind date or should I just go talk to him and get him to ask her out?"

But before they can say anything more Rachel catches sight of Bevin walking straight for Skills herself. A certain sway in her hips tells her that the girl needs no help, and possibly never did. Rachel watches as Bevin playfully slides a finger down the front of Skill's shirt and laughs when his eyes widen at her in surprise.

She's got this.

"Alrighty, seems to me like I'm not needed here. Never mind Lips," she pats his shoulder.

"_Mouth_," he corrects her.

"Whatever," she rolls her eyes, "I like my nickname better." She tosses him a wink to make his day and saunters off to class.

---x---

_**January 10**__**th**_

By force of habit, every time Lucas walks outside his house, his eyes automatically shift to Peyton's front door. Well, to be fair he looks up at her window and _then _at her front door. He doesn't know why he does it, just that he does.

Which today he thinks just may be a blessing. Because currently her front door is cracked open and even from his front porch he can hear the sound of crashing coming from inside. Quickly springing into action he creeps up closer to the house and again there is the sound of another crash but this time its followed by the sound of a man cursing.

The voice makes his flesh tighten with goose bumps. It's a well known fact that Peyton pretty much lives alone.

"Peyton?" he calls out and grabs the closest form of a weapon he can find—a rake—then silently slips inside her house. "Peyton!" he shouts as if to warn her if she's in the house, hoping that the sound of his voice will alarm her enough to run to safety.

Tall and burly, a man with dark blonde hair stands in Peyton's kitchen looking alarmingly at home with himself. Lucas knocks on the table with the rake in his hands to grab his attention then asks, "Where's Peyton?"

Turning to see who's disturbed him, the man's face creases into a frown, "Upstairs in her room, is my guess."

"Who are you!" Lucas shouts at him angrily.

Then the mans face contorts into one of irritation, "I'm the guy who's about to take that rake from you and beat your scrawny ass. I'm her dad. Who are _you?_" he snaps back.

The color drains from his face, "Oh. Sorry. The front door was open and I thought…I'm Lucas," he sets the rake down at his side then holds a hand out.

"Larry Sawyer," he grasps the boys hand and gives it a firm squeeze.

Then the sound of footsteps hurrying down the stairs is heard before Peyton pops into the kitchen, "Hey dad do you know where my…" the words die on her tongue as she glances up and sees Lucas. "What are you doing here?" she asks confused.

Mr. Sawyer smirks and leans against the sink with arms crossed over his chest, "Oh he's trying to rake me to death," he teases.

Peyton looks between the two men in her kitchen and frowns, "What?" she shakes her head even more confused than before.

"I thought you were…" he blushes and hates how stupid he feels. "Nothing crucial," he shakes his head, "I'm gonna go put this back…" he turns to leave.

"No, wait," Mr. Sawyer calls out, "you were willing to try and fight me to protect my daughter. You've earned yourself some food. Peyton and I were gonna head out for a bite, why don't you join us?"

"Uhh," he pauses. How awkward would that be? "Well, I'm supposed to meet Brooke later for dinner, but I guess I can hang out for a bit?"

"Brooke?" Mr. Sawyer's brow kinks.

"Yeah," Peyton laughs.

"Yeah, I'm kinda her boyfriend," he replies coy.

"Kinda?" Mr. Sawyer teases, taking severe enjoyment in making the boy uncomfortable.

"Yeah, well…" he fidgets.

"Brooke's playing hard to get," Peyton jumps in and links her arm with her dad's, "you know how our little B. Davis likes to play the field. She wont put a title on them but you can tell Luke wants to make an honest woman of her," she winks.

"Is that so?" Mr. Sawyer chuckles, "Well, good luck with that. She's a little firecracker, that one." He grins.

"So, we on for lunch?" Peyton looks at her dad and at Lucas, "come on, broody rake boy," she teases, "Brooke won't mind sharing you for an hour or so."

Something in the way she speaks makes him wonder about her. But he has some time to kill and he's curious at this new side of Peyton he's never seen. Her smile reaches her eyes, her words hold no venom and her entire aura sparkles like…

Well, like Brooke—_almost_.

Regardless it's a rare occasion and Lucas feels special that he gets to see this side of her. So he agrees and together they head out to his mom's café.

---x---

He's supposed to be working on his English assignment but he can't concentrate with Haley casually glancing up at him every now and then. Her eyes don't watch him like they used to. Where once was distain is now curiosity that is held behind those two brown orbs of hers. It worries him sometimes. Especially whenever he sees her absentmindedly playing with that damn crackerjack bracelet.

"I need a break," he sets his pen down and closes his book over it.

"Nice try," she smirks down at her work, "but the assignment is due tomorrow and if you don't finish now you won't later." Her gaze lifts up to stare across the table at him.

He shrugs, "So?"

"So?" she chuckles, "Nathan, why do you insist on playing this role? I know you care about your grades, don't act like they don't matter. Finish your assignment, please?" she flutters her lashes at him. "For me?"

He can't help but smirk at her butterfly winged eyes, "Well in that case… _no_."

Another laugh leaves her, "No?"

He shakes his head in response.

"Tell you what," she grins, "for every question you answer on your English worksheet, I'll remove a piece of clothing…" she pauses and bites the end of her tongue.

Nathan's mouth drops open, "Are you serious?!" he asks incredulously.

"Hell _no_ I'm not serious!" she shouts, "Are you kidding me? This isn't _Billy Madison_."

His frown makes her heave a deep sigh and shut her book as well before she brings her arms up onto the table and crosses them over her textbook. "What do you have in mind?—For your break, I mean," she adds quickly.

He smirks and has to remind himself that he can't treat her like he would anyone else. This means he can't suggest a quickie in the back of his truck, or a heated make out session in the _front_ of his truck.

"I don't know," he sighs and rubs a hand over his face.

Her lips purse out as she chews the inside of her cheek while playing with the beads around her bracelet and he chuckles at how cute she looks. When he does, her mouth instantly curves into a smile, "What?" she asks him.

"Nothing," he shakes his head.

The wind picks up just then and as her hair flies back into her face she laughs softly and brushes it away. But one rogue strand just won't stay put and instinctively Nathan reaches out to curl it behind her ear. He pauses after doing so, because a small gasp escapes her lips and he wonders if he's somehow overstepped his boundaries.

"So," he draws his hand back into his lap, "you want some food?" he asks and clears his throat while averting his gaze out at the river.

"Sure," she nods and quickly shoves her things into her book bag.

"Your car or mine?" he stands up and stretches.

"Yours," she answers, "I don't drive."

He balks in surprise, "What? You mean to tell me that you're a junior in high school and you don't drive?"

"Don't see the point," she shrugs and shoulders her bag, "why drive when I can get guys like you to do it for me?" she winks and brushes past him towards his truck.

Slowly but surely, she's changing. Every day she grows braver and her attitude has gotten far more flirtatious. It worries him because it's her naivety that he likes about her. She walks about as if she knows what boys want and she knows how to handle them. Yet she can't see that she's being played right here, right now. It almost makes him feel… guilty.

"Let's swing by Karen's," Haley suggests after she's buckled into her seat. "My shift starts in an hour, so I figure we can eat and finish our homework then I can just go straight to work."

He pauses to look over at her and when he does she simply smiles back at him innocently. But the longer he stares the more uncomfortable she becomes before her cheeks flame red and she has to look away. Her hair slides into her face and she hides in it as she turns her head towards her window.

"Got any plans for you and Peyton on Valentines day?" she asks without looking at him.

He shakes his head and starts the truck, "Not that I know of, then again Peyton doesn't do holidays… in fact she doesn't do anything. Which is why we broke up."

"Oh no," Haley frowns and turns in her seat to regard him with sympathy, "are you okay?"

The statement makes him laugh. Her brow shoots up in surprise of his reaction and he just keeps driving to the café without pause.

"In case you've forgotten? This is me and Peyton's regular routine. We'll probably be back together by prom." He chuckles.

"Prom…" Haley whispers.

"Yeah, you know? That thing where you girls wear ridiculously overpriced dresses while us guys rent a tux?" he smirks. "What, you not going?"

She shakes her head and forces a smile then looks away from him. "No, I wasn't planning on it," she mumbles softly.

He thinks about dances and how all the girls in his group of friends would die without a date. Every year for Winter Ball they all go half on a stretch limo, except this year because now they have Jr. Prom to look forward instead of a makeshift dance—_Winter Ball_.

Strangely he just assumes he's going with Peyton and the idea of it isn't anything worth anticipating. Though the after party is sure to be killer.

He shrugs, "It's overrated, anyways."

_Besides_, he thinks to himself, _everyone knows it's not about who you take to formal. It's about who you take home._

She remains silent and his side buzzes signaling he has a text message. He waits for a red light before he reads it.

_r u back with p?_

Brooke is so predictable. He smirks down at the screen, feeling he has the upper hand he texts her back quickly.

_u no im not_

Her reply comes quick.

_r u sure?_

_yes_

He presses send then drives off when the light turns green. But a thought comes to mind and he pulls his phone back out. Focusing on the road as much as he can he texts,

_just say u want me b_

But he gets no reply. But by then he's finally made it to Karen's and as he follows Haley into the café he sees a sight that makes him stop cold.

Lucas and Peyton… and Mr. Sawyer.

Suddenly it all makes sense. He feels stupid for thinking otherwise, she's been making it blatantly obvious that he's about to be kicked to the curb for his loser brother. But seeing him smile and laugh with Peyton and her father upsets him. And not in the way he thought it would. Not because he's with Peyton, not because she looks as if she's actually _enjoying _herself—something he hasn't seen done since freshman year—but because he's supposed to be with Brooke and yet he's wasting him time here… _not _with her.

Is he stupid?

"Nathan?" Haley nudges him back into the present, "Are you coming inside?"

He blinks and shakes his thoughts clear then takes one final glance at the happy family inside, "You know," he mumbles as he backs away from the door, "I just remembered something that I had to do…"

She frowns over at him disappointed, "Oh? But I thought we were going to grab a bite?"

"Rain check," he mutters, "I, uh… I gotta… go." He turns to leave before she can answer back. He'd feel bad but right now he's just too pissed off. He's not even sure why he's so upset but he is and the fact that he doesn't know why just makes him want to punch someone.

He turns the key in the ignition to start his truck then pulls his phone out to text the girl who's made him out to be a fool.

_looks like ur not the only 1 whos kreepn_

_what?_

_l & p looked pretty cozy in his moms café just now_

_ure a liar_

_and daddy makes 3_

But he gets no reply this time and he sighs and rubs a hand over his face.

_wna hook up?_

In his own sick and twisted way he's actually offering her comfort. It's the only way he knows how. It's the only way any of them know how. Then again he's not all that surprised when her response bites back like a snapping wildcat with words that sound all too familiar. But usually they're uttered past the lips of a curly blonde, not the technology of a hazel eyed brunette.

_yeah, THATS what im gna do_

---x---

Sometimes she hates the long-ass drives to the Duke campus. Sure, sometimes the alone-time makes a nice break for thinking but today it just makes her feel impatient and grumpy.

Owen makes the trips way more often than she does and she should be okay with being the one to go to him now and again. It's just that before Lucas came into the picture, she usually had the company of a cheery dimpled brunette in the passenger seat. Nowadays Brooke spends more and more time with the blonde Scott brother and of course that means that Brooke's less prone to want to go all the way up to Durham.

She'd never openly admit it, but she actually misses when they all used to hang out. Her, Owen, Brooke… and Nathan.

Nathan is a little obnoxious brat with way too much confidence but at least she knows his kind. She _understands_ his kind, because Owen used to be just like him although much worse.

Sighing annoyed, she parks the car outside Owens frat-house and throws the keys into her purse. Then she walks up towards the boys sitting outside on the steps.

"Hey baby," Owen smiles and pulls her into his lap as soon as she comes close enough. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

Tyler, the newbie, and Owens wide receiver Charles both laugh and rolls their eyes, so just to give them a real show, she straddles Owens lap and kisses him as if they were behind closed doors. It takes less than a couple of seconds before her always horny boyfriend has his hands under her shirt and Charles clears his throat uncomfortably.

"You owe me a good fuck," she mutters against warm lips as she pulls back and Owen chuckles deep in his throat.

"That's my girl – always so eloquent."

He kisses her again and when he pulls back to lean his elbows on a step further up, she stays across his lap. It is cold out here but Owen is warm and the frozen air is kind of refreshing after the hour and a half spent inside her car.

"Where's the Brookie-monster?" the quarterback underneath her asks and pins some red strands of hair behind her ear.

"With the loser," she mutters and throws her hands out in a tired gesture. "This is the third day in a row that she's blowing on following him around like a puppy. They went to the _bookstore_ yesterday."

Owen shrugs and grins. "She's got a crush, Raye. It'll pass."

If it didn't sound so corny, she'd tell Owen that she's missed his touch the last 48 hours. That she's missed his _presence_. She knows that Lucas is a crush – or at least she hopes so because Brooke is tangled in this mess bad enough as it is – but it feels better to hear Owen say it out loud.

She doesn't say anything though, because Tyler interrupts with an "Aww, that's so cute. Little Davis is crushing on preppy."

"What?"

She frowns and looks at the new friend of Owen's. The guy looks like he'd gladly have _Little Davis_ in his own bed, which is weird because from what she can recall, Tyler and Brooke have hardly met. But then again, with Brooke's situation with the Scott's – she doesn't need _another_ charming Casanova on her hands.

Owen trails wet kisses up her neck and she loses her chain of thoughts. She's just about to tell him to come with her upstairs when the front door opens and a girl's voice says;

"Did you want milk in this, Owen?"

His lips disappear from her neck and he reaches back for the cup of coffee that's handed to him by a blonde. "Naw, I'm good. Thanks Liz," he mumbles up and Rachel glares at the bimbo who instantly scampers back inside. Charles whines to Owen that she's scaring away his hook-up but Tyler just snorts.

"Shut up, Charlie _Brown_. There're more freaking girls at this campus than you'll ever have the time to fuck." He rolls his eyes and waves towards Owen, "If you're not like Big O here of course," he adds with a smirk, "He screwed the entire Duke Cheer squad in like one –"

The sharp look from her boyfriend to his smug offensive line-back doesn't go unnoticed by Rachel and she tenses, but Tyler throws his hands out in confusion.

"What, O?" he pushes, "It's not like it's a secret. I was in high school in another state and _I_ heard the stories. The thing you pulled with those twins made me _worship_ you, man!"

Charles chuckles, at least until Rachel bores her eyes into his and gives him a look of liquid venom. The chuckle turns into a strangled cough and the sound makes Owen turn back to look at his teammate. Then his brown warm eyes meet his girlfriend's currently very cold ones.

"Don't even play like that Raye-Raye," he sighs and pulls her closer, "You already know all these stories, babe. And you _know_ that I'm done with that shit. Remember those three words that I'm been trying to beat into your head lately?"

His brow rises sarcastically at the last words and she rolls her eyes and mutters, "You _love_ me?"

"Yes." Lifting her up with him, he rises from the stairs and puts her down on her feet. "I need to grab a shower before we get dinner. You wanna come with?" he asks and she shrugs in response. Her fingers subconsciously plays with the hem of his t-shirt and it's not until then that she realizes that the boys are all still in their practice clothes.

"Eww…" she mutters, "You're dirty."

"Yeah, in more than one way…"

"Smart-ass."

She slaps his butt in the football tights and sits back down next to Tyler. "Go get clean," she smirks, "I'm gonna stay put and listen to some of Tyler's stories."

Owen groans but she winks to ease the tension and then she grabs the cup of coffee that just her boyfriend just received from 'Liz the skank'. "Go, baby," she urges him again. "I'm just kidding."

Tyler's eyes gleam with malice and Owen sighs. "I'll get you back for this, Gage," he mutters and starts walking up the stairs. Then he seems to think of something and he stops just short of the door. "Raye likes you now," he says and taps his chin with a fingertip in faked contemplation. "But you wait until I tell her what you did with little B… See, Brooke is Rachel's Achilles heel and I bet she'd _love_ to know about the party where…"

He grins and Tyler suddenly looks very nervous.

"I didn't… you know…"

Owens brow shoots up and he waves in Rachel's direction. "Tell that to her, man."

"_Okay_, okay!" Tyler's hands fly up in defeat and Owen disappears in through the front door chuckling. Charles is long gone and maybe Tyler already knows that he's fucked because he looks like he's trying to come up with an escape plan.

"Chill, boy," she laughs and scoots closer to the guy. "If I know Brooke like I think I do, you didn't stand a chance. And I'll even let you back on my good side…"

The malice is back in Tyler's green eyes.

"You want the stories…" he smirks.

Its dark outside already and she stretches her legs out in front of her and watches as a couple of guys pass on their way to some party. Then she nonchalantly looks at Owens friend. "Of course. What else?"

The smirk on his boyish yet very manly face grows even wider and he sizes her up as if for the first time.

"Rachel Gatina," he says, approving, "You and I are gonna be great friends."

---x---

Brooke is sitting on the steps outside Lucas' house, waiting for him to get home. She's been sitting here for almost twenty minutes and she could probably have gone inside to wait, but she's still a little scared of socializing with his mom or uncle. Nathan has driven by twice but she keeps pretending not to see it. For what she's here for, Nathan Scott would only create a scene.

"Hey…"

Suddenly Lucas stands before her. He looks a little surprised and the facial expression isn't making her less nervous. More the opposite.

She curses inwardly for allowing him to creep up without her seeing it. She would feel better if he hadn't seen her look sad. Now it's too late to pretend.

"Keith said you were at Peyton's again…" she mumbles and blows air on her cold hands. Nights are getting chillier and she's just wearing a thin jacket. She hadn't thought she'd be sitting here for so long.

"Actually I was with Peyton's dad, if that makes any difference."

It's sounds like a lame excuse and she rolls her eyes tiredly and says "Whatever." She's not here to fight about his obsession with Peyton. She has other things on her mind. "Luke, can we talk?"

"Yeah, sure."

He feels a little hesitant. Even a little worried. He hadn't expected to see her here and he's not used to her being this 'broody'. Wasn't that what he was supposed to be doing, at least according to her?

Since she doesn't show any interest of wanting to come inside, he simply sits down besides her on the steps. She twists her hands in her lap and it's not until now that he notices that she looks more nervous than annoyed.

"Okay, I'm not sure if _we_ have a problem, or if _I_ have a problem" she says and sighs.

"What's the problem?"

A range of things go through his head but he can't find a reason for her to seem this worried. And when she tries to clarify with the phrase "In a nutshell, you're you and I'm me…" then he feels even less on track.

"Yeah but if I was you, you'd be dating yourself," he says and tries to find her gaze. She seems so frail and he wants to hug her. Although her posture, with shoulders pulled up and hands in her lap, tells him that this is not what she wants.

"What I mean is," she keeps going, "I do what I do, and I like what I like, and that's just who I am."

"I know, and that's what I love about you." He shrugs to show that this is not posing as a problem for him, but she seems not to notice. So he smiles in hope of releasing some of the tension.

Brooke just shakes her head slowly, "I know I said in the beginning that I didn't do relationships," she sighs and pulls the hair back from her face. "I told you that we weren't exclusive, I said it was cool for you to see other girls."

"And I told you that it was okay," Lucas sighs in annoyance, so tired of running this same circle over and over again, "but you and I both know that you're the only one I want to be with."

"Seeing you today," she shakes her head, "with Peyton. I realized that when I said it was cool for us to see other people—"

"I'm _not _seeing, Peyton," he assures her with a laugh, "or anyone else for that matter. Why," he squints down at her skeptical, "are _you_ seeing anyone else?"

She hesitates then looks down at her hands.

"You know what," he suddenly takes her hand into his and draws her attention to his face, "I don't care."

"Lucas," she starts.

"I'm serious," he tells her serious, "whoever he is or even if you're just dating around. I don't care. I know you didn't want anything serious in the beginning," her raises a hand to brush her hair aside when it blows into her face, "but I do."

She gulps and tries to look away but he pulls her back around, "And I think you do too, Brooke. So let's stop playing around, okay? I just want to be with _you_."

The smile on his face is genuine and warm but Brooke has heard this crap before so many times from guys that simply want to get into her pants. Instead of smiling back, she swallows and tries not to stutter. She's here for a reason and she needs to get this out. Nathan's words are getting to her, however much she hates it, and she needs to know if she is just deluding herself when thinking that he is her _boyfriend_.

Because maybe he _doesn't_ see it that way. Nathan could be right and Lucas could just be stringing her along in his wait for her blonde friend. It would be totally according to her life's karma, right?

"Okay but the music that you listen to and the books that you read," she presses on, "I'm not into any of that stuff…"

The lump of tears in her throat actually surprises even herself. When did she turn into this insecure little heap? She's not supposed to care this much about what he thinks of her. If he doesn't like her, then so what? She should be able to screw him and move along to the next hottie. _Should_, being the key-word here. She should, but for some reason, she can't.

Her bottom lip trembles and she averts her eyes and stares into the ground. But Lucas puts a finger under her chin and brings her face back up.

"And I never _asked_ you to be into it, okay?" he says seriously. "You know, I kind of enjoy the fact that we're different." He looks at her and his eyes are so sincere that she shivers. Not from the cold, but from the fact that he might actually like her for real.

So she takes the leap and does the thing Rachel told her never to do. Admitting her feelings and turning belly up in the war.

"Okay. I'm sorry," she mumbles. "It's just that you're the first really great guy that I've ever dated and that really scares me because…"

His eyes are so watchful of her that it makes her hesitate and struggle to find the right words to describe how she feels. So she thinks about how she would talk to Rachel, or Owen, or hell, maybe even Peyton or Bevin.

"I never gave a rat's ass before, okay?" she ends up saying and the way his brow wrinkles up in confusion causes her to add quickly, "But I do now…"

Totally prepared for him to roll his eyes or tell her that he likes her, but not in the real girlfriend-aspect kind of way, she holds her breath. And when Lucas keeps looking at her he feels as if he's finally seeing the real Brooke Davis. The vulnerable girl, as opposed to the ever so cocky high school queen.

"That's good," he answers and smiles. "Because I give a rat's ass about you too."

He realizes in this moment that he really means it. She looks beautiful with the tip of her nose a little red from the cold and her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Actually she looks perfect. Even more so when his words bring out that amazing smile on her face that he loves so much, and he just _has_ to lean in and kiss her.

Her lips are so soft and she sighs against his mouth, almost in relief. It's not a deep passionate kiss, more the type of slow pecking that contains promises for later. She smells wonderful, feels wonderful all close to him, and she runs her fingers up his neck and through his hair, before letting her arms rest around his neck.

"Who else would I give a rat's ass about?" he mumbles once she pulls back a little to breathe.

Her smile grows wider and when he cups her cold cheeks in his palms to kiss her again, he can even feel the dimples. A hot shiver runs down his spine and he can feel himself react to her, just like he always does. The night at Blue Post, the time in the hot tub, the make out before class in school…

He guesses that just being in Brooke's presence can make any guy hard. But tonight its more than that. She looks at him and his heart stops. Because there, on the stairs to his mom's house, he realizes that he's starting to fall in love with her. However weird it might seem, Lucas Scott – broody outsider and bookworm, is falling for Brooke Davis – cheerleader and social butterfly extraordinaire.

They're as far as they can come from a perfect match, but when he thinks about it, he wouldn't want it any other way.

This is the Brooke he wants to be with.

"So," he mumbles against her lips, "we're gonna do this then? You and me?" he pulls back so that he can see her expression.

She's still hesitant, he can see it and she still feels it too. But his words are so convincing and his actions are even more evidence of what a great guy he is. _Is _she really going to this? Become a one guy kind of girl? Jump into the very same rabbit-hole as Rachel and Owen? Rachel hasn't said it out loud, but Brooke knows. If they're back together then she's sure Rachel had finally given in and admitted to herself and to Owen that she was ready to be in a committed relationship.

So maybe this is Brooke's cue, a sign of some sort.

He's still staring at her as she inwardly fights a battle with all the negative thoughts processing through her mind. If she's going to do this, then she's going to do it right.

"Yeah," she nods to him. His grin grows ever so wide and he leans in ready to kiss her again but she stops him. "But before we slap on the labels," she laughs softly at the way he rolls his eyes at her joke, "there's something I have to do first, okay?"

Lucas blinks a few times, curiosity getting the better of him he asks, "Do what, pretty girl?"

"Nothing you have to worry about," she touches his cheek with her palm, "I just… I want to do this right, you know? Before we make this official?"

He nods but it's clear that he's still confused, "Okay, take all the time you need, Brooke."

She smiles in appreciation, "Thanks. I promise you it's nothing. I mean," she laughs, "it's _less than _nothing. So don't even think about it, okay?"

He just shakes his head as his lips curve into a sweet and sexy smirk, "Think about what?" he says and draws her lips back to his.

---x---

_**January 11**__**th**_

Rachel will not stop smirking at her. She's told the girl to stop on several accounts but the leer just keeps getting wider. She thinks Brooke's decision to be faithful to Lucas is a laugh riot. But Brooke is hell bent on proving her wrong. True love does exist, even if she has to force it.

"Keep it up whore and you'll be walking home." She sneers over at her passenger with the long scarlet locks.

"I'll get a ride," Rachel shrugs and remains watchful.

Brooke rolls her eyes and continues down the dirt road towards what is supposed to be yet another 'can't miss' party. It's planted deep in the valley and she's not sure if she'll be able to make her way back home after a few drinks without getting lost.

"Why are you doing it anyways?" Rachel says sliding on more gloss over her lips before she pouts in the overhead mirror and fluffs her hair. "I mean, you have it pretty sweet right now B. Two hot boys—_brothers _no less—and you want to stick to just one." She snorts.

"I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this." Brooke mutters and turns the wheel to make her way around a fallen tree branch. "It's not like it's you we're talking about."

"Damn right we're not talking about me. Or else this would be an entirely different conversation. One where you would be helping me come up with ways to get them to consent to a threesome." Rachel grins at the thought.

"Ew." Brooke wrinkles her nose.

"Ohhh come on! As much shit as I talk, I gotta admit that those boys are hot," she snickers.

"You can have one of them, I'm giving Nathan up. He's yours." Brooke's tone is dry with disinterest.

"Sorry, I don't do leftovers." Rachel scoffs. "_Ever_." She adds with venom then shrugs, "Besides, I'm content with the man I got."

"Chill," Brooke holds a hand up and laughs. "So I guess you and Owen are together for real now, huh? Does that mean you told him you loved him too?"

Rachel's smile falls, "So what are you going to tell Nathan?" she clears her throat and looks away.

Brooke frowns at the apparent brush off but it's Rachel so she lets it slide. "I'm not too sure just yet. I'm thinking I'll get falling down drunk and just tell him."

"Yeah because _that's _a good idea." Rachel mutters. "How did you even catch this monogamy bug? It better not be contagious, maybe that's where I got it from."

"Yes Rachel, beware because it's gone airborne and it's _highly _infectious." She says to the girl beside her and shakes her head. Rachel hasn't slept around in months and the snippy comments feel like an act.

"Laugh all you want, but you and I both know this is bullshit," Rachel shrugs arrogantly.

But this, she can tell, is no act.

Brooke can hardly keep from killing her and pulling over to dump her body on the side of the road. "You know I don't know why it is you don't have more friends Rach. You're just _bursting _with love and support!"

"Save the sarcasm Davis," Rachel laughs, "you're gonna need it for when this is all blows up in your face."

---x---

Several red plastic cups later… she thinks she's a video vixen. And so does Rachel. In fact, it looks as if they are both sharing the exact same fantasy of grinding up against some celebrity rapper. Their clothes are tight and barely there, their skin glistens from their shared body heat and they have everyone's undivided attention. The only thing missing is the rapper.

"You tell him yet?" Rachel's breath is laced with Hennessey and Brooke grimaces.

"No, not yet." She continues to dance with her friend. "Do you think I really have to? Can't I just avoid him some more?" She whines and pouts like a child.

Rachel turns to her left, sees Nathan staring and groans. "That's it," she stops moving to the music, "come on." Her fingers wrap around Brooke's wrist and she wrenches her off the dance floor.

"What the hell Rach, let me go!" Brooke fights to pull herself free but finds that Rachel is freakishly strong.

"You need to talk to Nathan," Rachel hisses in her face, "I'm sick of your shit."

"Why do you care so damn much?" She snaps back just as spiteful, "it's _my _life, remember?"

"But you're _my _friend," Rachel pauses, "and I look out for my own." Her faces scrunches up as if the words are a bad taste on her tongue.

"Damn it Rachel," Brooke groans and leans into the girl in front of her as the music pulses around them loud and obnoxious. The lights are dim and the house smells like beer. It doesn't help that there are crowds from three different schools jammed packed into the residence.

"He's been staring at you all night," Rachel tells her, "Peyton didn't come tonight and no one else really gives a shit what you two do. So if ever there was a more perfect time than now…" she lets the sentence trail and gives Brooke a shove into Nathan's direction.

"I hate you," Brooke says with such sincerity it makes Rachel proud. "You're only doing this because you're bored, Owen is at away game and there's no one here worth fucking." She sneers. "Not that you would because we both know what happened last weekend!"

"Whatever," Rachel ignores Brooke's insinuation, "you still need to do this."

"You are such a fat meddling whore and I hope no one fucks you tonight. I hope Owen comes back from the game and just passes out without calling you first!" She snaps. "Oh, and everyone in here thinks you look like a whale in that miniskirt," she smirks, "I know I do."

"Rest assured, no one gives a shit what you think." Rachel rolls her eyes and gives the girl another impolite shove towards the kitchen. "Now stop stalling."

Brooke starts to whine again but she knows Rachel is right. So she sluggishly makes her way to Nathan and drags him outback where it's more quiet. Rachel watches and takes a deep breath before taking a look around the room. There really is a lack of doable boys to play around with—_play_ being the key word. She's put way too much effort into her relationship with Owen to fuck up now. So instead she goes into the kitchen.

She needs another stiff drink.

---x---

Brooke hates the smug look on Nathan's face when she approaches him. She also hates that she has the sudden urge to rip his clothes off and do him on the nearest flat surface. He looks extra good tonight and she thinks its because he scored the winning shot in todays game. Or the fact that he's wearing that black sweater she loves so much. It hugs his chest and makes him look like a cover model.

_Fuck_.

"We need to talk," she grabs him by the collar and drags him out the back sliding glass door. There are three girls sitting outside giggling and two boys sharing a joint. Brooke takes one look at them and snaps, "get out," before they all go scrambling away like roaches.

"Someone hasn't taken her bitch pill today… what's up your ass?" He chuckles and brings her close by her waist. His hands slid down to cup her ass just as a small growl of arousal escapes his lips. "Took you long enough to come to me," he mutters and hovers his mouth over hers.

She closes her eyes and reminds herself that she wants to try this boyfriend thing with Lucas for real. She has to or else she feels like she's going to lose what little of her humanity she has left. There is just no way she can be this jaded at such a young age.

Her tongue slides out to coat her lips and she takes a deep breath to ready herself. But Nathan takes this as a different sign and crashes his mouth against hers. She loses herself in his kiss for a few tantalizing seconds. A small whimper flees up her throat when his tongue teases hers deliciously. A small lick of fire starts in her lower region and makes it way up into her stomach. A gasp fills the silence and then she's wrapping her arms around his shoulders and drawing him closer.

"I want you," he says against her mouth and bites her bottom lip hungrily, "come on." He takes her hand and starts to lead her towards his truck.

"No, wait." She stops and tugs her hand free. "This isn't why I brought you back here."

His brow arches curiously and he grunts, "What then?"

Her lips are swollen from their kiss, she sees her gloss glistening off his mouth and wants to lick it off. She closes her eyes and inhales a shaky breath through her nose. She starts to think that maybe she's addicted to him. She wants him running though her veins and filling her up like a cool glass of water.

"I can't do this anymore," she pushes all thoughts aside and shakes her head.

"Do what?" His arrogant look is back as he takes one step towards her. She doesn't move when he places his hands on either side of her hips and grips them firmly to jerk her forwards against his own. "You feel that?" He bends down to whisper in her ear. He presses his hard on into her and she gulps nervously. "Tell me you don't want it." He growls.

What part of her thought this was going to be easy? Who's bright ass idea was it to be monogamous anyways? People cheat, they do it every day. Married, single or dating.

"_I give a rats ass about you too…" _

She grimaces and pushes him away.

"I have a boyfriend," she says and even she doesn't believe the words when they come out of her mouth. "Or, at least," she pauses with a grimace, "I _will _have a boyfriend after I do this," she squares her shoulders and prepares herself for what she's about to say next, "It's over, Nathan." She stares into his eyes and gulps nervously.

She really can't blame him when he starts to laugh at her.

"Who? _Lucas?_" he laughs again and releases her to stand back at laugh some more. "Come on Brooke, who are you kidding?" he smirks and reaches out for her. "It's not your style baby," he shakes his head.

"Fuck you," she slaps his hand away, "you don't know me."

"I know you," he nods.

Her glare burns brighter, "We're done," she hisses at him furiously with gritted teeth.

He dares to laugh at her again, "You couldn't quit this if you wanted to." Nathan doesn't give her time to respond before he forces his mouth upon hers as if to swallow her whole.

She brings her hands up to shove him back but he curls an arm around her waist and jerks her against him so hard that she cries out in surprise. The sound she elicits afterwards makes him harder. Brooke knows she's not putting up much of a fight but it's hard when she knows Nathan can give her the kinds of pleasure Lucas would never even dream of.

Besides, she hasn't officially accepted the 'girlfriend' title just yet. She _did _ask for extra time. What's wrong with one last go before locking down with Lucas? It's not like at this precise moment she's already been claimed as Lucas Scott's girlfriend. His name isn't tattooed on her ass nor hers on his.

The next thing she knows they're in his truck and she's ripping her blouse up over her head in such a rush she hears the cloth tear. Nathan chuckles and helps her pull his own sweater off before he tugs at her zipper. She can't get out of her jeans fast enough and whines in frustration when he can't get the foil wrapped rubber open.

"Oh for goodness sakes," she huffs and snatches it away to tear it open with her teeth.

She swears, _this _is the last time.

---x---

-x-

**AN**: A big ass thank you to all of you who reviewed. We love it when we get to hear your thoughts and opinions. And if you guys have questions and don't want to wait a week to get the answer, then just PM either of us on our respective profiles or at the LJ. Luv y'all.

Lizzy, Chey, Ellis, Audra, Jem, Yana, Rachtree, Naleyy, JustNothing, Helen, Brathan23, gatorgirl1414, Iz-Belle91, , zoe0527, Brathan4life, Trish, p0line, superstargirl7, Ashtalker, fggt16, Rvaughan, TCC, siriuslyblairrr, diane


	17. Does It Offend You, Yeah?

**AN: **From here on out, all author's notes can be found on the LJ (link in profile). Thanks!

---x---

**Part 2:**_** Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 16: **_Does It Offend You, Yeah?_

**Junior Year**

_**January 1**__**2**__**th**_

Its dark already, winter nights tend to be like that in Tree Hill, and as she steps out of her Volkswagen she can't even spot him. At first, all she can hear is the sound of the bouncing ball against the worn tarmac but then he steps into the light from one of the street-lamps and she smiles.

He looks so at home here and for several minutes she just stands rested against the hood of her car, just watching him play.

He's not as good as Nathan but he seems to have a natural feeling for the game, making the easy lay-ups look almost graceful. He has the one thing that Nathan lacks when it comes to the sport.

_Heart. _

She sucks in a semi-nervous breath and takes a step out on the court, her mitten-clad hands shoved deep into her pockets. This is it. There is still a possibility that he'll say no.

"Hey broody…" she says in a low raspy voice and his head whips around just as she steps into the circle of light from the lamp. He smiles wide and locks the ball under his left arm.

"Hey pretty girl," his eyes are soft and she feels calmer, "What are you doing out so late?"

"I came to find you. Keith said you were out here."

He meets her half way and she reaches up to press her lips towards his. Her nose is cold and he laughs when she nuzzles it into the crook of his neck to warm it up but he doesn't pull away. She's spent the entire day contemplating if this is the right move, but after Friday when Lucas said that he wanted her to be his girlfriend, she's wanted nothing but to be that for him.

The short crash course with Nate last night had been a farewell of sorts and now she's ready to move on.

"You shouldn't be driving around alone this late, Brooke," he says with a soft voice and caresses away some loose strands of hair from her cheek. "It's dark and the roads are slippery."

She smiles wider over the fact that he cares and nibbles his bottom lip teasingly. "Well," she mumbles, "I needed to see my _boyfriend_. I haven't seen him all weekend…"

"I know," he breathes back, sounding almost guilty. "But I've been tied up with my mom, she wanted me to…" he trails off and looks down at her face with a squinty expression. "Wait, what did you just call me?"

Weirdly enough, she finds herself blushing in the cold winter air.

"Uhm… boyfriend?"

His grin stretches to cover almost his entire face and his hands on her hips pull her closer.

"Is that so?" he chuckles. "Have I finally earned the right to date you exclusively?"

"Yup," she nods back and playfully nibbles his lip again.

His gaze narrows slightly, "Are you sure?"

Her smile warms his blood, "Never been more sure about anything," she replies softly, "so how about it… _boyfriend?_"

The nervous butterflies in her stomach start to calm down at the sight of his happy smile and she relishes in the feeling of belonging to someone. Being someone's girl. It's surreal almost, she's scared and happy all at the same time.

Lucas responds with a content, "I say it's about time," and then he kisses her.

She closes her eyes and leans into him, losing herself in him in so many ways. Mind, body and soul. This must be what Rachel felt like when she finally gave into Owen. Nervous and shaky yet jittery with life and excitement.

"Does this mean you're gonna wear my letterman jacket?" Lucas teases her playfully, "do you want my class ring too?"

She giggles huskily and nuzzles her nose against his, "I just want you," she says.

"Well you've had me since the night you showed up in my backseat," he says roughly, a low lustful growl pushing through, "pretty girl."

Brooke grins and when his lips touch hers once more, the butterflies flutter up all over again.

---x---

_**January 13**__**th**_

Something about him is off. But she can't quite put her finger on it.

"Nathan," Haley starts, "are you okay? You seem…" she shrugs.

"I'm fine," he mumbles without looking up from his homework, "I'm just trying to finish before I have to meet my parents for this stupid therapy session."

Her eyes widen in concern, "Is everything alright?"

"No," he grunts in bitter amusement, "then again, has it ever?" he looks up and frowns when he sees her face. "I'm sorry," he sighs and drops his pen to rub his face, "I'm just in a bad mood. My parents have been fighting a lot more lately and my mom thinks it's a part of why my grades are dropping. Plus it doesn't help matters that I have a smart mouth and I keep walking out in the middle of basketball practice."

Haley slowly shuts her book and gulps, "I'm sorry."

"Why?" he snorts, "I mean, it's not your fault I'm messed up."

"I'm sorry that you're so unhappy," she whispers.

"It's not so bad," he mutters and looks down at his homework again.

"I hope that's true," she whispers soft enough to bring his eyes up to her face.

She smiles and his eyes narrow in search of two familiar indents on either side of her lips but they're not there. It makes him angry that he still thinks about a girl who doesn't want him anymore. Like a piece of trash she's tossed him aside--something he _knew_ was bound to happen and yet even with a foreseeable outcome he's still stuck in a lingering state of shock.

"Why do you care?" he finds himself snapping at her. "Why should _anyone_ care for that matter?" he grunts and starts to shove his things into his backpack.

"Where are you going?" she asks in a near panic, "Nathan, you're upset. You shouldn't be alone right now. I can help--"

"No," he barks at her with a tone so sharp she flinches, "you can't help me, Haley. Okay? In fact you should probably stay away from me altogether. I'm messed up and I've just recently begun to realize that a lot of the shit I've been doing isn't exactly 'morally correct' so save yourself--save your _soul_, and stay the hell away from me."

"But--"

"It ain't gonna happen, Haley," he growls out, "if you were hoping to reform me and live happily ever after then I feel sorry for you. Because then that means you're even more pathetic than I had originally seen you as. "

She gasps and the pain that shows in her face makes him feel like the biggest jackass on the planet. What the hell is _wrong _with him? Why is he taking his anger out on someone who's been nothing but kind and understanding? Dear God if she only _knew _the kinds of thoughts that flow through his mind she'd go running in the opposite direction.

"I'm sorry," he says to her and slumps back down onto the bench at the table, "I'm... _God_, I'm such a jerk," he laughs bitterly at himself.

"Do you want to change?" she asks him.

He shrugs, "I don't know."

She sighs and picks up her things to leave, "Well," she replies and shoulders her bag, "let me know when you do."

"You bouncing?" he looks up at her, "I mean, I don't blame you if you do. But I just need to know if I should bother coming back tomorrow if you're not gonna be here."

"I'll be here," she answers.

"Why?" he can't help but to ask. They both know he doesnt deserve it.

"Because, Nathan," she sighs sounding tired, "unlike you, I know who I am and this is what I do. I help people," she takes a few steps towards home then stops and turns, "but I can only take you to the door, Nathan. I can't make you walk through it."

Her words make no sense and yet they make all the sense in the world.

---x---

_**January 17**__**th**_

Rachel doesn't really know why she's waited this long to confront him. All she knows is that he's lasted longer than she thought and it's simple math that he's going to screw up soon. By cutting the arrangement off with Nathan, her dimpled friend has put all her eggs in one basket and Rachel isn't sure that Brooke's chosen the right one to store her trust in.

But either way, it's not like she can bite Brooke's head off for wanting to be someone's girlfriend. If she hadn't taken that title herself not so long back then she would have had something to back her arguments with, but now, if she so much as mentions to Brooke that this whole 'getting serious' with Lucas is a bad idea – then she gets an eye-roll at best.

So now Rachel must take things into her own hands.

Brooke is upstairs changing when she approaches Lucas with the intent to scare him off. She doesn't like the way Brooke acts when she's around him, because she isn't herself.

Nothing big, just subtle changes that only someone as close to Brooke as herself would notice, yet she doesn't like it. Rachel is a strong believer of just being herself.

She lives by a simple motto: _be yourself, everyone else is taken. _

So as Brooke changes from her jeans into sweats, Rachel slithers up next to Lucas and places herself on the couch. She watches him as he concentrates on his English book. He and Brooke have been studying for the past hour and Rachel can't believe they both still have their clothes on. What the hell was the point of a study date if not to hook up?

_To study?_ No.

"I know what you're doing," Lucas surprises her because he says this without looking away from his book. He licks his finger and turns a page before he sighs deeply and sets the book down into his lap.

"Really?" Her brow arches and she relaxes her posture more. She sets her elbow on the back of the couch and rests her chin against her closed fist.

"Yeah," he nods, "and I respect it actually."

Her arm falls down from the couch, "Excuse me?" She replies dryly.

"She's your best friend and you care enough about her to be protective. I understand it because I'm the same way with Haley." He explains to her as if it's all just so simple.

"No honey," she shakes her head with a sarcastic smirk, "I don't think it's the same thing."

"I care about Brooke." He looks directly into her eyes as he says this, it unnerves Rachel but she refuses to blink. She won't back down. "I'm not going to hurt her." He replies softly.

"You have a Y chromosome. Yes you will." Comes Rachel's fixed reply. "And when you do," her eyes narrow, "I'm going to be the one comforting her and biting my lip so that I don't say _I told you so_." She scowls.

"Who burned you?" He frowns. "You have a very negative outlook on life I've noticed. Everything Brooke says you shoot it down before she finishes."

"That's because Brooke has her head in the clouds, I have to keep her grounded." Rachel's clipped tone causes Lucas to pause. "I also do not have to explain myself to you. This conversation is about Brooke and this is your warning."

"You're threatening me?" He asks in complete disbelief.

"I'm warning you, there's a difference." She snaps.

"But, why?" he asks confused. "I haven't done anything but care about her. She's an amazing person and I can't believe that you just automatically assume this isn't going to work. As if I don't see what a good thing I have." He shakes his head. "She's beautiful, she's smart, she's talented, she makes me laugh…" he smiles as he pictures her beautiful face.

Rachel watches his expression and says nothing. Because now Brooke is trotting downstairs and she has her playful face on.

"Broody!" She yelps and jumps into his lap, "All this studying is making me hungry. Lets take a break, okay?"

"Sure babe," he pats her hips as they straddle him on either side of his waist. "What do you feel like?" He asks her and leans forward to place a chaste kiss on her lips.

"Hmm… something," she licks her lips, "_spicy_."

He chuckles and runs his hands up her sides to cradle her face. "Baby, you know if you eat spicy foods too late you have nightmares." He brushes the hair from her face. "I don't want you waking up in the middle of the night baby girl." He says to her softly. "Why don't you let me make you something?"

"Ohh," she grins, "do I get to watch?"

She kisses him and he laughs huskily, "You can do whatever you want." He winks. "What do you feel like?"

"Surprise me." She whispers.

He nods and she slides out of his lap. "Rachel," he adds just shy of the kitchen entrance, "I can fix you something too if you like." There is no menace in his tone, nothing but kindness… and its odd.

"Uh, no." She shakes her head and looks at Brooke. "I think I'm good." She looks back at him and he tosses her a nod before entering the kitchen.

---x---

He can't believe his father sometimes. Today was a disaster at their first 'family therapy' session. But no one would believe that his parents were trying to work things out by the way Dan was openly flirting with the waitress who's taking their order. It pisses him off and to get back at him he clears his throat to gain the attention of 'Hello my name is: Sarah.'

"And what can I get for you, sweetness?" She juts her hip out and leans against the booth with her writing pad held out and her knee a mere two inches away from his thigh.

Nathan can see his father watching them carefully, "I'm not sure yet," he leans in closer to Sarah so that his fingers slide closer to her leg. "What are your specials?" His eyes flirt with her in much the same way his father had just minutes ago.

She lists their soup of the day, their famous calamari dish and then she bends down to whisper in his ear, "I suggest the cherry pie, it's _very _delicious."

Dan is seething by this time.

"I'll think about it," his eyes travel to her exposed cleavage and he pulls back, "until then I'll take a Coke," he throws in a wink and then looks across the table, "dad? What would you like?" He smirks over at his father, silently taunting him with his expression. As if to say, _You're old and I'm young. She'll take me over you any day. _

When she leaves Dan scowls, "What was that all about, huh?"

"You mean besides the fact that you were just propositioning her a few minutes ago?" Nathan scoffs.

"What?" Dan balks, "You know how I like to kid around." He shrugs.

"Yeah, you're famous for it." Nathan mutters irritated, "Dad, you really think that's gonna help what's going on?"

"Look, you know I think this counseling thing is ridiculous but I promised your mom I'd try again. We'll be okay." Dan leans back in his seat.

Nathan thinks back to ten minutes ago when he witnessed his father flirting with a stranger, "Right." He grunts.

"You just focus on your game. Did Whitey kick your ass today?" He reaches for his water and takes a drink.

"I didn't go to practice," Nathan shrugs. He didn't feel like watching Brooke and Lucas pass their stupid goo goo eyes and secret smiles.

Dan almost chokes on his water, "What's going on with you Nate?"

"Nothing," he pauses with a sigh, "I just need some time. Okay?"

"No its not okay," his father snaps as he starts to get worked up, "It's career suicide." His eyes burn into his son's.

Nathan looks away towards the approaching woman with their drinks and waits until she's gone. He gives her a simple nod as a thank you and Dan ignores her completely. She walks away with a confused frown and he rolls his eyes at her ridiculous nature.

"Look Dad," he sighs deeply, "Keith said—"

"_Keith_ said!?" Dan nearly knocks his beverage over, "You talked to _Keith?_"

Talking to Keith had been just as much a surprise to himself as it had for both Scott brothers. His truck was acting funny and he was still pissed after that stupid therapy session. Taking the car to Keith was better than the alternative if he wished to avoid his dad. How was he to know that as he waited for the truck to be serviced he'd end up nearly spilling out the truth of all his problems?

They even talked about Brooke. Though at the time Keith had no idea exactly _who _his nephew, Nathan was talking about. To him she was just some other girl he was seeing besides Peyton.

But Keith just had that damn air about him that made whoever he was with comfortable. He looked so damn trust worthy. For a moment Nathan had been severely jealous of Lucas for having Keith when he himself was stuck with Dan. It wasn't fair. Keith was _his _uncle too, why weren't they closer?

Dan shakes his head at his son in disapproval, "You take advice from Keith, you'll end up spending the rest of your life running a second rate auto garage. Is that what you want?"

He thinks about what he talked to his uncle about and pauses.

"I told you," he stares across the table at his father, "I don't know what I want."

---x---

_**January 18**__**th**_

The Sigma Nu house is packed.

It's Super Bowl XL, the Steelers verses the Seahawks and Nathan has his money riding on Ben Roethlisberger to carry the Steelers to victory. Owen's determined to go for the underdog, though Nathan knows that O has his money on Pittsburg. Which is a shame because so does half the guys in the house. Then Tyler suggests taking bets on the winning score. Nathan puts his jersey number down as the winning score for his team.

A group of girls erupt into laughter that makes Nathan twist his head around to see what the commotion is. Instinctively he searches each of their faces for those familiar dimples and when he doesn't see Brooke, he turns back to the pre-game ceremony. He shouldn't care anyways if she's coming or not.

They are 'done' after all. Weren't those her words? Plus, the gossip about Brooke and her new _boyfriend_ is all over school.

It's such a joke.

When Rachel comes bursting through the door with bags filled with every snack food there is, Nathan's eyes immediately check the doorway for the next girl to walk through. And disappointment doesn't even start to explain the feeling he experiences when he sees that it's just Bevin Mirskey who waltzes in behind the red head.

"Babe!" Owen shouts over a shoulder, "bring me a beer, kay?"

Nathan snickers behind a hand, ready for the wrath that Rachel's about to cast down onto him and when she simply skips over with an opened bottle of Corona, he nearly chokes on his own beer.

"Kiss," Rachel says holding the beer to her chest and leaning over to receive her fee of service. Instead Owen pulls her into his lap and buries is face in her neck, causing her to scream and nearly drop the drink.

"Watch it man!" Tyler shouts out horrified, "You don't spill Corona! Not in this house you don't."

Rachel rolls her eyes, tips the bottle in his direction and takes a swig before handing it over to Owen who gulps down half of it. Nathan's not sure what shocks him more, the fact that Rachel is acting like a _girlfriend_, or the fact that she went somewhere without Brooke. Either way it's enough to make him want another drink.

But when he holds out his empty bottle and opens his mouth, Rachel throws his a fierce scowl. "Don't even think to ask me for a beer," she grunts at him spitefully.

"Please?" he juts his lips out.

"I'll get you one!" a perky blonde jumps up and trots over to the kitchen.

"What are you doing here anyways? Aren't you supposed to be at your dads house?" Rachel asks as she slowly disentangles herself from Owen's lap. "I mean, word is that he throws a party every year for the super bowl," she frowns, "why aren't you there playing the dutiful All-American son?"

"He pissed me off," Nathan answers truthfully, "and I didn't feel like watching him and his friends get drunk and talk about their golden days. Because my dad still thinks he can live it over again through me."

She nods her head in understanding then pulls her indifferent expression back up into place. "Whatever," she replies and tugs Owen up by his arm, "I need to talk to you."

"Can't it wait?" he whines.

The look she gives him is the Rachel that Nathan's used to, and he relaxes into the couch beside Tyler who points at the screen laughing. Owen, however, is far from relaxed and as he stands up to follow his girlfriend out back he keeps his guard up.

"You have to make Nathan leave," she says the second Owen slides the glass door shut behind himself outside.

The tall quarter back pauses, not quite sure exactly how she expects him to answer this ridiculous order. "Umm…" he laughs and rubs the back of his head with a hand, "seriously?" he looks down at her in wait. She must be mistaken, maybe it's really Scooter who she wants out of the house. It's common knowledge that she hates him.

But her arms are crossed, her eyes narrowed and her mouth is set in a thing straight line. She's not kidding, nor is she mistaken. She wants Nathan gone, but why? Which is exactly what he plans to ask her, yet when he opens in his mouth her hand comes flying out to stop him from speaking.

"Brooke is coming," she explains.

Owen rolls his eyes and pulls her hand down from his lips, "So?"

"She's bringing _Lucas_, Owen!" her shrill voice makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight.

"Why the hell would she do that?!" he shouts back as if it's Rachel's fault. " You know Preppy's my boy, I ain't gonna make him leave. If it's him or that other guy, it's gonna be Nate." He grunts and crosses his arms over his broad chest.

"Owen…" Rachel growls.

"No, Raye," he shakes his head, "I'm not gonna make him leave."

Owen stands his ground and Rachel fumes inside. She knows it was a shot in the dark to ask Nathan to leave, but hell… she had to try something. Because the shit storm that was about to go down was inevitable. She'd warned Brooke—begged her, even—to not bring Lucas. Nathan's ego was still freshly wounded by her recent decision to cut him off.

But as always, Brooke wouldn't listen.

"_So the party at Duke's still on, right?" Brooke asked as she bent down to touch her toes. "The Super Bowl thingy?"_

"_Yeah," Rachel nodded and did the same, "why?" _

_"Well," she paused to stand back up and raise her arms up to stretch, "I was thinking about bringing Lucas." _

_Rachel's knees buckled and she almost fell flat on her face, "_What?_" she snapped and thumped down onto her backside. "You have to be kidding. Brooke!" she scoffed up at her in shock, "tell me you're not serious!" _

_"What? He _is_ my boyfriend, Rachel! I want him to feel included and this is the perfect opportunity--"_

_"To shove him in Nathan's face?" she shrieked back at the brunette whose head snapped around to see how many of their fellow cheerleaders caught the tail end of Rachel's outburst. _

_"No," Brooke grumbled and held a hand out to pull the red head back to her feet. "He's not going to be there anyways," she continued, "I would never bring Lucas otherwise." _

_"How do you know he won't be there?" Rachel replied skeptic, "In case you've forgotten? Nathan and Owen are thick as thieves, Brooke. They're almost harder to break apart than you and me." _

_"I _know_," Brooke rolled her eyes, "but he won't be there, okay? His dad hosts this Super Bowl party _every _year where he loves to parade Nathan around like a trophy son. Trust me," she pushed back on Rachel's leg to help stretch, "Nathan's not going anywhere." _

_"I still think this is a bad idea," Rachel grunted against the pressure Brooke pressed on her hamstring, "none of the guys at the Sigma house are going to be nice to him. You know they all love Nathan." _

_"Yeah well, I don't care if they love Lucas or not. As long as they respect me by respecting _him_ and not acting like assholes--"_

_Rachel started to snicker, "You're delusional." _

_"No," she dropped Rachel's leg and switched positions with her, "I'm being a good girlfriend, and good girlfriends," she grunted against the force in which Rachel pushed her leg back, "include their boyfriends in their every day lives. I really think this will make Lucas happy, because he's really been pushing to get to know me better." _

_"Then show him some fucking family photo albums, don't bring him into our world, Brooke! The guys will eat him alive and Owen's gonna shit a brick." She scowled. "Damn it B, this is gonna be a disaster and you know it." _

_"No," Brooke swung her legs around and pushed up to her feet, "it won't."_

_"It's gonna get back to Nathan," Rachel warned, "Owen's too loyal to keep his mouth shut."_

_"I don't care," Brooke replied, "it's not like I'm purposely shoving him in Nathan's face. Which is why I made sure he wasn't going to be there. Now come on and lets practice this half-time cheer. Peyton's boney ass keeps messing up the counts," she sighed and headed out to instruct her squad. _

_"You better hope he doesn't come," Rachel muttered under her breath. _

---x---

She's nervous. No, she's beyond that, she's... she's..._ petrified_.

"So who are you rooting for?" Lucas asks as he holds open her side of the car.

"Oh," she sighs and takes the hand he offers her, "I don't know. Which ever team has the cutest butts," she grins and throws him a wink.

Lucas shakes his head chuckling and she scrunches her nose like bunny, he loves when she does that. She looks so cute he always has to lean over and kiss the top of her nose. Which is exactly what he does and she giggles happily as she accepts it then tilts her face up higher to capture his lips with hers. Such innocence she tastes in his kiss, it's intoxicating. She can literally feel feet sway as she floats up on her imaginary cloud.

Then a loud burst of shouts and laughter erupt from inside the house and Brooke's bubble pops. She sighs and slides down from his chest and takes his hand to lead him towards the house. She's surprised that he's not nervous, or at least he put son a good front. Because he seems relaxed when she herself is shaking in her Ugg boots. Rachel's words from cheer practice just days before replaying in her head over and over again.

_The guys will eat him alive._

She hopes not.

She takes a deep breath and steps up onto the porch with her boyfriend in tow. Lucas should be fine, she thinks, because the guys respect her and in doing so they should respect Luke. She nods and pulls at the screen door in front of the house, bright smiles and wide, happy eyes. She's so good at faking cheerfulness that sometimes she manages to convince herself that she _is _happy.

"Hey guys!" Brooke grins and the room explodes into cheers.

"Little B!" Tyler jumps up from the couch and plasters her face with a sloppy kiss.

"Whoa there," she laughs and struggles to hold his weight, "someone start the party a little early today?"

"Nah," he winks and stands up straight, "I just wanted to embarrass you. So who's the chump," he points to Lucas and she pauses in shock.

"Tyler," she gasps, "this is Lucas," she starts, "my boy…" the word dies on her lips as Nathan comes walking out of the kitchen with a fresh beer in hand, "…friend." She finishes with her eyes locked with the raven haired Scott.

The shock she sees in Nathan matches the amount of surprise she experiences herself. For a moment she contemplates turning around and walking straight out the door from which she came.

"Hey," Lucas cuts in, "I'm the boyfriend," he replies unaware of the growing tension in the room.

Nathan gulps and fights not to care that she's here with his brother. She told him this was going to happen, he just hadn't expected her to have the guts to bring him _here _of all places. _Their_ place.

Then Tyler turns from Lucas to Brooke in confusion, "Boyfriend?" he grimaces, "But I thought you and Prep—"

"No!" she squeaks.

Tyler's confused gaze is laced with a haze from the amount of beer he's drunk and waves a hand as if to erase away the entire conversation altogether. Nathan sees the terror in Brooke's eyes and walks into the room, making his presence known by Lucas whose relaxed posture stiffens.

"Well, well," he grunts and crosses his arms over his chest, "look who we have here…" Brooke begs him with her eyes and he wishes they didn't affect him so much.

"Nathan," Lucas gives a curt nod.

"You two know each other?" Tyler points between the two.

"Yeah," Lucas responds first, "sadly, we're related." He crosses his arms over his chest and stands just a bit taller.

Nathan's gaze narrows then he takes a deep breath and turns to Tyler with fake enthusiasm, "Can't you see the resemblance, Gage?"

Tyler wipes a hand over his face, "No," he shakes his head, "not really."

"Where is Rachel?" Brooke steps in between the two glaring brothers, "or Owen for that matter? And what are you doing here? You're supposed to be at your dad's party."

"Yeah?" he says with double meaning as his eyes size Lucas up in distaste. "Well, I guess things change."

"Brooke!" Bevin's head pops into the living room, "Hey! Oh… and is that Lucas? Brooke, did you know Nathan was here? Don't they like, _hate _each other?" she blabs.

A knot forms in between her shoulders and tightens until a painful current shoots up to her head. She places a hand against her forehead and prays to God for someone to rescue her from this Rachel-predicted disaster.

She cringes as everyone's eyes bore into her as if she's the main attraction of the party. Suddenly the Super Bowl is second best to the drama that could quite possibly unfold. What the _hell _had she been thinking when she thought to bring Lucas here?

"Umm," she licks her lips and laughs nervously, "I… uh…"

"Babe, is everything okay?" Lucas slides a hand around her waist and pulls her backwards to place his hands on her face, "You want to leave?"

"Leave?" Tyler scoffs and yanks Brooke away from Luke's hands, "you guys just got here. You're gonna miss kick off, grab a seat boyfriend and Brooke will go get you a beer." He grins menacingly and she elbows him in his side so hard that he grunts. "Or someone else can get you a beer…" he mumbles in pain.

Nathan's acid laced scowl deepens but he says nothing and moves to sit back onto the couch. Tyler sees how upset his friend is and drops his hands from Brooke's waist to join Nathan in front of the television. He's pouting, she realizes in disbelief. Nathan Scott is sulking like a five year old ankle-biter.

She'd laugh if she weren't so wound up.

Rachel and Owen choose then to finally walk into the room. Rachel's eyes widen into two huge saucers as she takes in the scene before her. Owen catches sight of Nathan on the couch with Tyler coaxing him to snap out of whatever mood he's in and turns to scowl at Brooke. The amount of discontent she sees in his eyes makes her cower back a step until she bumps into Lucas.

"Hey," Lucas says sensing Brooke's discomfort, "I'm Lucas," he holds a hand out to shake with Owen while his other squeezes his girlfriends hip for reassurance.

It's unnecessary because nothing he could do would help ease her nerves. But he doesn't know this, so she can't blame him for trying. She also has to pretend that it's okay for him to kiss and touch her in front of everyone. What was she _thinking _bringing him here? To _this _place?

_Their _place. Her and Nathan. The one spot where they didn't have to hide their… whatever the hell they were.

"Owen," the big and burly quarterback grabs onto Luke's hand and gives a fastidious and firm shake. "How nice to meet you, Brooke's told us _nothing _about you," he eyes the brunette.

Lucas' smile drops, astonished by his harsh tone and angry eyes that are directed at the girl who is currently inching backwards to flatten herself against his chest. "I'm sorry," he shakes his head in puzzlement, "but is there a problem here that I'm unaware about?"

Owen's eyes don't leave Brooke's face and Rachel's gaze won't leave Owen.

"What the hell is going on here? Can't you see you're scaring her? Back off," Luke snaps and pulls Brooke back to step in front of her as a shield of some sort.

The light chatter around the room slips into pure silence. He even thinks he's heard a few people gasp. Apparently standing up to this Owen guy wasn't something to be done.

But Lucas doesn't care. These are not his friends, they are nothing to him but blurred faces in a crowd of ingrates. Brooke can do so much better, he knows she can. He wishes she could see that.

Tyler slowly rises from the couch and only then does Owen break his gaze from Brooke to shake his head briefly, pausing the guy where he stands. Lucas feels as if he's somehow stepped into a scene from _Lord of The Flies_. What was to come next? Human sacrifices? Was Owen the big bad king of the castle? Has Lucas overstepped his boundaries?

"O," Tyler mutters and there is no mistaking the fact that it sounds like code for 'do you need me to kick this guys ass for you?'.

But then Nathan's hand flies outward to grasp onto Tyler's forearm, he gives one harsh tug and the guy flops back down onto the couch. "Chill, the game is about to start," he replies in somewhat of a dismissive tone.

Most of the watching people in the room turn their attention back to the wide screen and ignore the bubbling drama that's about to unfold.

"Babe, he doesn't know any better. Just ignore him." Rachel says placing a hand on Owen's shoulder.

Owen scoffs and shakes his head, "I could really give a shit what this guy has to say to me," he rolls his eyes. "It's _you_," he snaps at Brooke and causes her to flinch.

"Owen," Brooke shakes her head, "I didn't know—"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a mother fucking _minute_ here," Rachel slaps Owen's finger down from Brooke's face and moves to block him, "you're pissed at _Brooke?_"

Owen rubs a hand over his face and takes a glance around them to see that he has the attention of way too many people in the room. People whose business none of this pertains to. Nosy gossipers and big blabber mouths have hanging tongues down to the floor in sweet anticipation of what's to happen next.

"Fuck it," he mutters and backs away, "we'll deal with it later. You can go now," he waves the couple away.

Brooke gulps and the hurt expression on her face makes her appear to be a scolded child. As if her big brother Owen has just kicked her out of his room full of the popular people and she's just the annoying kid sister. Rachel can barely stand it.

"He's right," she nods and Brooke's eyes widen in betrayal, "you should go."

Brooke snorts in disbelief and takes Lucas' hand to leave, but suddenly she's stopped. Turning to glance at the hand on her arm she looks up at Rachel confused.

"But I'm coming with you," she says and curls her fingers through Brooke's, "Bev, get my purse?" she looks to Bevin who hurries upstairs to grab it.

"Raye," Owen groans.

"Don't," she growls and gives him her back, "meet me in the car." She tells her friend.

"Raye, you don't have to do this," Brooke sighs exhausted. "You were right, I should have never—"

"No," she shakes her head, "_you _were right. If they were really your friends they would respect you by respecting Lucas." Her eyes travel the room in disgust, "It's just nice to know who they really are."

"Rachel," Owen's gruff tone makes her clench her teeth. "I'm not gonna disrespect Preppy by—"

"But you'll openly disrespect Brooke?" she scoffs. "Way to go Owen," she shakes her head, "you are so attractive right now." Her sarcasm slices through him like a small, lethal razor blade.

Then she storms over to the couch and leans over to hiss into Nathan's ear, "You don't want to know what I think about _you_ right now."

"Thanks for sparring me from one of your tedious one liners," he mutters without removing his eyes from the television. "Have a great time with Peter Pan over there."

"You're an ass," she snaps and pushes away from the couch, sure to slam the heel of her palm onto Nathan's shoulder as she does so. "You too, Tyler."

"What?" his mouth drops open, "What did I do?"

"It's what you _didn't _do," she shakes her head disappointed, "none of you would even be like this if Chase were here. He always was the one with all the brains," she mutters and snatches her purse from Bevin, "Either you come with us now or Owen will take you home afterwards."

Bevin blinks and looks around the room, contemplating her options. She shoulders her purse and shrugs careless, "I'll go with you. I think Ashley's dad is having a party, we can swing by. Or maybe Tim's? His dad always has open coolers everywhere and he never cares if you steal a beer or two."

"Sounds good," Rachel smiles softly in appreciation. Her like and respect for Bevin has just gone up tenfold.

Brooke turns to leave and pulls Lucas along with her. Tyler tries to reach out and stop her with muttered apologies and both she and Rachel ignore him. Nathan never once looks up from the TV.

And Brooke thinks that's what hurt the most.

"Rachel!" Owen calls out as the front door slams shut.

She ignores him. Much like the way Nathan had ignored them all.

---x---

"So how come you're not at home watching the game with your 'boys'," Haley drops her dishrag to air quote the word.

Jake chuckles softly and shakes his head at her from across the counter in Karen's Café, "My boys?"

"Yeah," she nods, "you know, like… your… _boys?_"

"You're a nut," he laughs again to himself and playfully wags his balled up apron in her face. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I need the money," he shrugs.

Her teasing ceases to exist as guilt creeps up to take over her facial features and Jake hops over the counter to assure her he's fine. Not many people know about his little secret and of those select few, Haley is one of the members in his circle of trust.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles with a slight red tint to her cheeks, "I should have known."

"Stop," he shakes her by the shoulders, "I'm not made of glass you know."

She smiles and looks up at him as a thought occurs to her, "Hey Jake?"

"Yes, Haley?" he smirks.

She rolls her eyes then sighs, "What's your opinion of Nathan?"

Jake's eyes widen slightly in surprise, "Nate? Why?"

"No reason," she blurts and shrugs away from his hands, "just curious." Picking up her rag she starts to wipe down the already spotless counters again.

"Oh, Hales, no…" Jake groans.

"No, what?" she blink innocently.

He pushes her onto the stool beside him and takes her hand, "Listen to me, okay? I'm your friend," he looks into her eyes and waits for her to nod before he continues, "Nathan is a cool guy…"

"But…" she urges him to go on.

His frown makes her pause, "But he's not someone you want to get involved with. Trust me, okay? Just be careful. That crowd, those people… I used to be one of them and I can tell you right now that it's not an easy life once you scratch the surface."

"Those people… you mean like, the popular kids? Like Nathan, Brooke and Rachel? Like, Peyton?" she asks, now her chest grows tight because if these are faces to avoid then they're all in trouble.

Because Lucas is unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Brooke Davis.

"They're not bad people," he corrects himself, "just… just be careful, okay?"

She shakes her head nervously and clenches her fingers in his arms, "Jake, what about Lucas? He's so taken with Brooke it's like I don't even really know him anymore. Is he going to be alright? If she hurts him I swear to God I will—"

"Chill," he laughs, "of all of them Brooke is the one with the most potential. She's harmless, Haley."

"I highly doubt that, do you know who her best friends are?" Haley scoffs disgusted. "Do the names Rachel Gatina and Peyton Sawyer ring a bell?"

Jake frowns and right then the bell over the entrance chimes and in walks the curly blonde with the bluest eyes and darkest soul. She takes one look at the two of them and the scowl that takes over her makes Jake drops his hands away from Haley instantly. At the loss of his touch she turns towards the door and does a double take.

What the hell is Peyton Sawyer doing here?

"Uh," she slips off the stool and fixes her apron, "can we help you?"

Eyes glued to the boy who stares down at his feet, Peyton's gaze slowly makes it way to Haley's face. The intensity in her expression makes the tutor take a slight step back. Jake clears his throat and instantly Peyton's head snaps in his direction. He stands and passes a casual glance over at her before moving back behind the counter.

The air in the room swirls around them like electric currents, she can literally feel it snap, crackle and pop against her skin.

"Peyton?" he says the girls name wearily, "is there something you would like to eat or drink?"

Again, her gaze lifts from Jake's avoidance to Haley's politeness, but this time she blinks once and suddenly—like a light switch being flipped—the uncomfortable atmosphere dissolves away into nothing. Now Haley stands dumbfounded, wondering if she'd just imagined the whole thing.

"I'll take a vanilla shake," she replies softly but her eyes are boring holes into Haley.

"Coming right up," Haley bobs her head and spins around to get right on it.

Once she's in the back of the café, she exhales a long held breath and opens the freezer door to grab what she needs. A shiver slinks down her spine as her breath puffs out in small clouds around her face. In quick steps she rushes out of the freezer and pauses to shut the door with her foot. As she turns towards the kitchen she nearly collides into Jake and a shriek erupts from out past her lips.

"Whoa!" Jake steadies her, "It's just me," he laughs, "you alright?"

"No!" she snaps, "You almost scared the life out of me!"

"Haley," he shakes his head at her, "I highly doubt that's even possible."

"Anything could happen," she mumbles.

"Here," he takes the cold tub of vanilla ice cream from her hands and sets it down onto the counter beside the blenders. "Sit down, take a breather. I got this," he smirks down at her.

"Excuse me, I am perfectly capable of making a milkshake." She huffs in offense.

"Yeah but," he shrugs slightly and walks over to the icebox to lift the lid and grab a few chopped strawberries, "there's a certain to do this." He drops them into the blender and adds the ice cream.

Haley watches him and wonders how many times he's done this before. Or why he looks so nostalgic when he pours the shake into a glass and adds whipped cream to the top and drops a cheery down onto it. But she doesn't say a thing, instead she follows him out front just in time to nearly fall to the floor from a heart attack.

"Hey!" shouts Lucas who wears a grin the size of Montana and has a dimpled brunette latched at his side with a matching expression. "The gang's all here," he chuckles and slides his hand down Brooke's side to take her hand and twirl her around as they walk towards the counter.

But that's not really what makes Haley worried. It's the fraction of a smile she sees on Rachel Gatina's face. The redhead is almost more of as sure thing than Peyton Sawyer is when it comes to dirty looks. But there she stands beside Bevin, watching Brooke and Lucas with a small twitch in her lips.

"P. Sawyer!" Brooke giggles as Lucas squeezes his fingers in her hips to tickle her, "What are you doing here, girl?"

Jake slides a milkshake across the counter towards the blonde, "Hey Brooke," he nods his head at her then looks around the room at everyone else, "can I get you guys anything?"

Then all at once they're blurting out orders and laughing, all six of the seven people in the room sharing a moment. The only straight face in the room is Haley. Which is odd because even Peyton is smiling—hell, even _Rachel_. Its just too weird, how can she stand there and laugh with these people?

People who at once used to walk past her in the halls as if she didn't exist?

"Hey, Peyt heads up!" Brooke shouts and steals the cheery from her shake to toss up into the air so that Peyton can catch it in her mouth.

"She shoot, she scores!" Bevin shouts and holds her arms up like a football referee signaling a successful field goal.

"Nice," Brooke giggles and high fives Peyton.

Peyton shakes her head and chuckles softly and Brooke turns to her from the inside of Luke's arms and winks.

"Just like old times, huh B. Davis?" Peyton smirks.

Brooke pulls free from Lucas to jump into Peyton's lap and steal a sip from her straw, "_Now _it's like old times," she grins and plants a kiss on her cheek. "Welcome back," Haley swears she hears Brooke whisper to Peyton.

"Okay," Rachel claps her hands, "whip me up something good, burger boy," she teases Jake. "Get back there, chop, chop!" she shouts.

Jake pretends to jump to it like an obedient servant and when every laughs…

Haley can't help but join in.

---x---

Nathan sits on the couch watching highlights of Super Bowl XL. He'd won a fair share of the money pot with his score prediction but the 75 bucks in his pocket means nothing to him. Everyone around him laughs and clicks drinks as they grow drunker by the hour.

He really didn't expect seeing Brooke with his brother to affect him this much. But it did. Now here he is, alone with nothing but the half empty beer in his hand and his own gloomy thoughts. The alcohol in his system courses through him and he leans back and closes his eyes. Suddenly it all hits him at once.

Brooke was serious about this 'Lucas' thing, which meant the deal between them was really off. He's not sure exactly what part of him is bothered the most. His ego or his dick. Because truth be told Brooke Davis one hell of a fuck. The loss of such a satisfying sensation is like going cold turkey on heroin.

"Nate, bro! Bring your broody ass on over here, join the fucking party man," Tyler shouts from the kitchen area and Nathan's blood boils at being called something meant for losers like Lucas.

_Seriously, Nathan_, he thinks to himself, _what the fuck are you_ doing? _Brooke is just a girl. A dime a dozen._ He lies to himself and stands up from the couch to stumble into the kitchen where a crowd of Sigma Nu brothers are gathered around a table.

Owen slaps a hand down onto Nathan's shoulder in a show of loyal friendship and motions for a brunette girl in a short skirt to get them fresh beers. She sighs and pushes up from the table to get them and Owen rolls his eyes at her attitude.

"Raye is getting way too influential around here," he mutters to Nathan in confidence. "Hey, Brenna, what's with the attitude, huh? You used to love getting me a drink."

She slams his bottle down before him on the table forcefully with a glare, "That was before you decided to rob the cradle rather than experience life with a _real _woman," she mutters then slides another bottle towards Nathan.

"Thanks," Nathan hides a smirk.

"Whatever," she rolls her eyes and settles back into her seat between Owen and Tyler at Nathan's right.

"I like how you only choose to spread your insults when Raye's not around to defend herself." Owen pops the top off his beer and eyes her while he drinks from it.

"Bite me," she hisses.

"Nah, I'm cool," Owen replies and tips back his beer again.

"Boys are bullshit!" someone shrieks and rushes forward to yank the beer from out Nathan's hands. A tiny blonde in low rider jeans and a white halter stands beside him guzzling his drink, and he watches in amazement as she slams it back down and wipes her lips with the back of a hand.

"Elle," the moody brunette from before, Brenna, mutters dryly, "I thought we talked about this before we got here, sweety." She rises up to her feet and takes her friend by the wrist, "We leave our baggage at the door and pick it up on our way out, remember?"

"Fuck you, Brenna," Elle snaps and slips in beside Nathan to sit down, "so what are we playing?" she replies deliberately ignoring the only person in the room who seems to know her.

"She cool?" Owen turns to ask Brenna.

"She's fine," Tyler waves a hand, "ain't you baby?" he winks across the table.

"Peachy fuckin' keen, _baby_," she mocks him with a smirk.

Nathan snickers and stands up to get another drink. But when he returns he has two bottles, and one he slides over in front of Elle who thanks him quietly. The talk around the table starts back up and Owen's deep laugh brings Nathan's head to the right to see him and Tyler grinning like idiots while they talk about last week's game against Charlotte.

When he turns back to the little blonde firecracker on his left, Nathan is shocked to see her rolling a now empty beer bottle back and forth between her hands on the table. Her shoulders are hunched forward, making her appear intimidating and uninterested in the chatter around her. He can relate.

But when he moves to start conversation Owen clamps a hand down onto the table in another fit of laughter and when he looks back to where Elle sat she's gone. Her seat is now occupied by the smart mouthed brunette with a tight ass and megawatt smile.

"So," her hand slinks over his knee, "I didn't catch your name earlier," she leans forward to say in his ear.

"Nathan," he nods his head and looks around the room in search of the blonde. "So, what's up with your friend? She uh, she seemed…"

Brenna rolls her eyes, "That's just typical Elle-drama," she shakes her head. "She and her boyfriend—who lives in California by the way—" she adds with a scoff, "fight like every other day. But she won't dump him," she shrugs.

"Why not?" he asks.

"Who knows? Maybe she's a masochist? I mean, he's cheated on her like three times since they've been together. But I guess I can't blame her," she sighs, "she's just a freshman. She'll learn sooner or later that the high school sweetheart thing is bullshit."

Nathan blinks down at Brenna and wonders what her story is, she's obviously speaking from experience. But the beer in him makes his head too hazy to want to find out and right then it wants to come out. With a full bladder he excuses himself and heads upstairs to the bathroom. Fuck waiting in lines, he'll use Owen's in his room.

"Fuck you, Logan," Elle's voice shouts from down the hall and he slips into Owen's room quietly and does his business. When he comes out he sees her standing at the end of the hall by the window with her phone pressed firmly to her mouth.

"I have _never _cheated on you! How dare you even ask me that! _I _am not the one who fucks random strangers when I'm drunk! No, Logan, it's you who's the whore. You know what? I'm done. I'm so over this!" she screams and slams her palm down onto the windowsill. "Don't tell me you love me!" she cries and Nathan turns and heads back down the stairs.

He returns to the table to see his chair taken over by one of Owen's frat brothers. He rubs a tired hand over his face and walks towards the refrigerator to grab another beer. No way is he drunk enough. He can still feel the sting of Brooke's earlier burn against him and his ego is still badly bruised.

But when he opens the door to grab a bottle he sees a pitcher of orange juice, and he's instantly brought back to the morning after his first night at the Sigma Nu house. He remembers Owen telling him how Brooke had taken care of him and then the way her cheeks had blushed when she pressed a hand to his forehead.

Fuck, this sucked.

"Hey, Preppy," Tyler's words reek of beer and his heavy hand on his shoulder makes him grimace. "Man, fuck that loser Brooke brought over here earlier. She's just trying to make you jealous, but don't worry," he nods, "we all got your back, bro."

"That was really fucked up how you all did Brooke like that," Nathan mumbles, "she didn't deserve that."

Tyler's hand drops from his shoulder, "Who's side are you on, Prep? I thought you and B had something going, was I wrong?"

"Fuck what we had," Nathan slams the fridge door shut and twists the cap on his beer with the bottom of his shirt, "and fuck _her_. I can have any bitch I want in here," he slurs and gulps from his drink.

"Yeah!" Tyler shakes him, "that's my boy! Who you want, huh? Point her out and I'll hook you up." He turns Nathan towards the living room. "What about Brenna, huh? Dude, she's definitely feeling you."

"Too easy," he shakes his head.

"Alright, alright," Tyler nods, "what about…" he rubs his chin and Elle brushes past them just then. "_Damn_," Tyler admires her from the back, "Prep, if you don't hit that then I will." He shoves him forward towards her.

Nathan stumbles and nearly collides with her back and spins around to avoid collision but ends up crashing into someone else. He apologizes and glances around for Elle but she's already across the room headed for the front door. So he speeds up his pace and pushes past people to get to where she is.

"Hey," he calls out and she pauses just shy of the screen door, "you're not leaving, are you?"

"Generally that's what happens when you walk out the front door," she mutters back.

He chuckles and holds the door open for her to pass through then follows her out onto the front porch, "He's not worth it," he tells her.

"Excuse me?" she growls.

"Whoa," he laughs, "I didn't mean to offend you, I'm just saying. Whatever guy made you this upset? He's not worth it." He shrugs.

She chuckles bitterly and jerks her head to slide her bangs from her face, "That's really funny coming from a guy who's been pouting since that girl came in earlier with her boyfriend then left after locking eyes with you."

"That," he starts and shakes his head, "is a long story."

"Don't they all start with a _long _and sad story?" Elle shrugs. "Look," she steps forward until she's right in front of him looking up into his face. "We could do this," she nods, "lord knows it would help us forget them for however long it takes before either one of us gets off," she pauses and snorts. "But what's the point if after all is said and done we're just going to fall right back into that shitty mood we were in before?"

"It's sure one hell of a distraction beforehand," he slides his hands over her hips.

She sighs, "Maybe so," she replies and presses her palms to his chest, "but forgive me for saying it's not worth it." She pushes away from him and walks off to her car.

He watches her go and groans. She was hot and he screwed it up, he was seriously off his game. Which meant he needed to polish that once shiny player trait he used to wear with pride. So when he walks back into the house and sees Brenna wink at him from across the room.

He decides right then to add her to the notches on his bedpost. It's a plus that she's brunette and her name starts with a B. But then he sees another girl beside her who's short and blonde and reminds him of the girl that got away. So when he suggests that all three of them head up stairs and they agree… He knows he's not off his game.

He just needs to get back _in_ the game.

Welcome back Nathan Scott, he thinks to himself.

---x---

Don't forget to check out the LJ for this week's 'pic of the week' and more!


	18. Belt Loops

**Part 2:**_** Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 17: **_Belt Loops_

**Junior Year**

_**January 23**__**rd**_

At 10 pm she drives back from Lucas' house like a good girl should. According to his mother, Karen–who so far still seems to like her even though she's pretty sure Karen knows about the tattoo–school night's end early and it's time for both of them to go to bed.

Although apparently _not_ in the same one.

During the time that Karen was in Italy, she spent the night at Lucas' several times, so it seems a little silly that she has to go home now. But she's okay, because at the same time the concern from a grown-up—even regarding her sleeping arrangements with her boyfriend—is actually nice for a change. Quite refreshing even.

What's less nice though is the fact that her mother is home for a couple of days while her father is doing business in Taiwan, and she has no plans at all to spend the night under her own roof.

Any other night she wouldn't even think about this as a problem. She would just head straight over to the Gatina mansion further up the hill. But she knows for a fact that Owen is there and she hasn't seen or spoken to him since last week at the Super-Bowl fiasco.

Rachel had finally forgiven the quarterback three days ago on her own direct orders, because there is just no point for Rachel and Owen to be fighting over something that had been her own fault.

She should _never_ have brought Lucas up to Duke. She admits that Owen had been right about that, but not for the fact that it was disrespectful to Nathan. Because that was complete and utter bullshit since Nathan was never her boyfriend to begin with. What they were was nothing short of friends-with-benefit and she will not apologize for finally putting an end to that deal.

However, she regrets what she'd done because it wasn't fair to _Luke_. The Sigma Nu house had been her playground for over a year and before Nathan there had been the other boys that she had flirted around with.

She knows them, all Owens frat-brothers who had also become friends of Nate's, and of course they'd treat Lucas like crap. She should have been smart enough to see that they'd regard her as a property of Nathan's, hence Luke would seem like the intruder.

More importantly; she would never have been able to relax with Lucas there anyway. Because her blonde boyfriend doesn't know the side of her that she usually displays at the Sigma Nu party-palace. At least not yet anyway.

Talk about shoving her new boyfriend straight into a snake-pit…

Talk about being _naïve_.

All of this boils down to the same thing. She's not all that angry with Owen, but she _is_ hurt.

It's been five days since the party and she still can't get over the fact that he treated her like an irritating little piss-ant, clearly taking Nathan's side over hers.

It's unfair because during the last year, Nathan has gone back and forth between the 'arrangement' with her and being Peyton's boyfriend, and everyone seems to have been perfectly fine with _that_. She brings her own boyfriend and suddenly _she's_ the traitor? What the fuck?

She hates the fact that she's sure if _Nathan_ had been the one to bring a new _girlfriend_ to the house, the guys— or should she say _**Owen**_?—would never have turned him away. Sure, things would have been awkward, and she would have had to avoid the sympathetic looks from the guys in the house (not to mention the constant offers to help make Nathan jealous), but she's almost positive that Nathan would never be turned away from the house the way she had.

Suddenly stopping at a red light, she groans in frustration. Tapping her fingernails on the steering wheel, she ponders her options. When the light turns green, her foot is already pushing down onto the gas pedal.

_Anything_ is better than being under the same roof as her mother. Even a grumpy quarterback with a backwards set of morals.

Hell, right now she'd rather sleep in her car. But that would make Raye shit a brick.

She doesn't knock when she reaches the big house. She just walks right in and kind of hopes that Rachel and Owen will be upstairs in Rachel's bedroom, making out. That way she could easily sneak into the guest room and sleep there.

But no such luck.

Owen and Rachel are lounging in one of the big living room couches and at the sound of the front door opening, the redhead looks up from the TV-screen.

"Hey slut-face," Rachel says as if nothing's out of the ordinary, although she scans Brooke's appearance tentatively. "We're watching Tila Tequila. There's ice cream in the fridge if you want some."

Brooke hangs her coat on the hanger and kicks off her ugg-boots.

"Thanks," she mutters, "but I have homework."

Rachel nods almost unnoticeably, just to signal that she understands the white lie, and Brooke shoulders her bag and heads for the stairs. But she's barely one step into Rachel's room before she hears the sound of Owen clearing his throat right behind her.

"Hey… uhm… can I talk to you?"

She turns to look up at the guy that she practically sees as an older brother and he half-smiles a little uncomfortably.

With a sigh she gives a small shrug then walks over to drop her bag onto her bed, "Yeah, sure. Whatever," she replies softly.

Owen takes another step into the room and leans towards a bookcase, "Are you still pissed at me, B-monster?" he asks and tilts his head to follow her averting gaze. "You _know_ I'm sorry, right? I didn't mean to bark at you in front your new guy."

_Or embarrass me in front of the entire Sigma Nu house?_ Is what she wants to add to his apology. But she doesn't and instead she sighs deeper and chews on her bottom lip. Stupid Rachel for sending Owen up here like this. The guy is freaking impossible to stay mad at when he does that puppy dog look. Plus, just as in the car, she knows that she has herself to blame and that he wasn't out to hurt her consciously.

But that doesn't mean he didn't manage to do it anyway.

"I know you don't like Lucas," she mumbles and pulls out a random book from her bag so that she can at least pretend to study, "and I shouldn't have brought him to the house." He watches her intently and she looks away. "It won't happen again."

Now Owen is the one sighing.

"So that's how we're gonna play it, huh?" he says, still trying to search out her gaze. "Rachel says you won't even come up to Duke on Thursday for the big game."

She shakes her head. "No, I—I just have plans with my… uh, dad."

What's up with her lying skills tonight? This lie sounded even worse than the homework-one downstairs. And it's obvious that she's not the only one noticing it tonight.

"B, come on…" he utters and rolls his eyes, "That's low. You could at least make up a _believable_ lie if you're gonna avoid me and my boys. I know your dad is away on business. Raye even told me that the mega-bitch is home."

_Damn that harlot and her big mouth. _

"Well what do you want me to do?" she answers in a frosty tone and this time she's looking right at him. "Yeah, so I slept around with Nathan for a while but we never promised each other anything. Yet you throw _me_ out when I come to hang out? And for what? Because I brought over a boy that actually _wants_ to be with me?" she juts her chin out stubbornly. "I get the whole "brother" code and all that shit but..."

She stops because she remembers that this was exactly what she wasn't supposed to do. If Owen, Tyler and the other guys don't like her choices, then that's their problem.

Not hers.

"Whatever," she shakes her head, "I mean yeah I kinda knew all of you before Nathan did and I did expect a little more respect but…" she shrugs, "Whatever, I get it. I'm a girl—so I guess that makes the circumstances 'different'."

Pulling a hand through her long brown hair, she flips the book open and sits down on the bed. For a while she pretends to read and Owen stays where he is, just watching her in silence. Of course she pouts, but it's a habit that's hard to break.

A whole minute ticks by and then there's a groan from the tall football player.

"Aye, mija," he mumbles and walks over to sit next to her. "You're just like my little sister Dani. That pout is going to be the death of me."

She continues to stare down at her book without moving and he groans, then slings a huge arm around her shoulders and removes the book from her hands. "How can I fix this, huh?" he asks.

She shrugs, still unable to look at him.

"Alright, listen," he starts and places a finger under her chin to turn her face towards him, "and listen good because something like this only happens once in a lifetime…"

She rolls her eyes but the playfulness is there and then she nods.

"I was _wrong_," he says and drops his hand from her chin, "and you were right. You deserved a shitload more respect than you got," he sighs and rubs his hands over his face. "And for that? I'm sorry."

Brooke looks away from him and closes her eyes to take another deep breath. Hearing him say that just puts more weight on her heart.

"It really hurt to have you guys treat me like that," she whispers, "you guys mean everything to me, O. _You_," she presses a hand to his chest to emphasis her point, "mean so much. You're my brother in a way, okay? And I guess when I brought Lucas…" she pauses, "I guess in a way I was looking for your opinion. Or more so, your _approval_. I really like him, Owen. So why don't you?"

"It's not that I don't _like_ Lucas, okay? I mean, _shit_," he scoffs, "I don't even know the kid," he nudges her to make her look at him again.

She shrugs and juts her bottom lip out further. If Owen just got to know Lucas, he'd see why she likes him, wouldn't he? Owen is one of the nicest guys she knows.

"You could _get_ to know him…" she mumbles. "He's a really awesome guy."

Owen rolls his eyes and chuckles.

"Owen," she turns her glistening hazel eyes on him and lays it on thick.

"_Okay_," he says and squeezes her in a sideways hug. "I'll give it a shot. Name the time and we'll all hang out. You, me, Rachel and your boy, _Lucas_. How's that sound?"

"I don't know," she sighs deeply, "I mean, I don't want to _force _you to hang out with us. What good would that be?"

"Brooke," he growls out, "take it or leave—"

"Okay," she pulls the lip back in and lets the smile tug at the corners of her mouth. Then she elbows him playfully in the ribs. "Seriously, O," she says cheekily, "you don't have to beg…"

"Oh, you little," he reaches out to grab her but in a flash she jumps off the bed and heads downstairs for ice cream and reality soaps.

Who the heck wants to willingly study anyway?

"Rachel," Owen can hear her say as soon as she's downstairs, "you will not _believe_ what your boyfriend just begged from me…"

With a chuckle he shakes his head and rises up off the bed to go join the girls. He gets halfway down to the bottom when he realizes something that makes him pause.

Owen Morello has just been played.

---x---

_**January 24**__**th**_

"I can't fucking _believe_ that you're seventeen years old, man!" Tyler chuckles and slides him a shot of cheap tequila across the bar. "I mean, I figured that you was a youngen when O first called you Preppy, but _seventeen_? Dude! You're practically a _child_!"

Nathan eyes the shot-glass and frowns. With Owen, at least he can trust the stuff to be Patron, but this shit that Tyler's drinking? It is definitely _not_ that.

"Enough, okay Ty? At least if you want to keep drinking in this bar." He makes a disgusted face as he kicks back the liquid. "What is this crap anyway? Rat-poison?"

Tyler laughs louder and chases his shot with a beer. "I'm sorry, Prep," he says and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "It just amazes me that the bunch of ya'll are just little kids. No offense, 'cause you're cool, but it's still funny."

The lights in the nightclub are blinking around them and Nathan slides the bartender some cash to get himself and Owens teammate a round of _real_ shots. "The bunch of us?" he questions sourly, still not amused at being called a little kid.

"Yeah. You, Brookie, Raye…"

"Rachel's eighteen," he mutters. "They fucked up her transcript in junior high or something."

"But she's still a teenager," Tyler shrugs with an amused grin.

"And you're what? Twenty? _Big deal_."

He sounds grumpier than he really is. When he first called the Sigma Nu house earlier tonight, he had planned to go hang out with Owen, but O's busy with Rachel and he likes Tyler. The guy is all about girls, partying and all kinds of mischief and right now that suits his needs perfectly. Tim and Vegas are fun and all but it's a Wednesday and they've got curfews. Plus, Vegas' fake-ID is unreliable as fuck and Tim probably _is_ a little kid maturity-wise.

The club is full of scantily dressed college girls and while Tyler scans the crowd for a nice hook-up, he ponders why he favors the company of Owen and his teammates over his own high school friends. Because what Tyler says is true. It _is_ a little weird that they're all so welcome to hang out with the habitants of the Sigma Nu frat-house.

Maybe he – as well as Rachel and Brooke – have just grown out of the Tree Hill 'playground'? They've all started out earlier than their friends, no doubt, and he figures that it's not just about them being popular. Tim, Bevin, Peyton and Vegas all belong to that inner circle as well. But Tim and Bevin both have parents that give a crap about where they go at night and Vegas is just too obsessed with banging naïve and doe-eyed high school virgins.

Brooke's and Rachel's parents have pretty much always been MIA and his own parental unit doesn't care as long as his late night outings don't interfere with basketball.

"I guess we're all just too fucked up to act our own age," he concludes more to himself than to Tyler and grabs the new set of shots that the bartender hands him. Ty looks back at him curiously and sniffs the offered glass.

"Or you just have way too much spending money?" he jokes with a raised eyebrow, not knowing how right he is. "Back in New Jersey there sure as hell aren't any seventeen year old little kids that have the cash to order whiskey as nice as this one. Unless you're slinging drugs and Raye and little B are working part time as exotic dancers?" The eyebrow rises even higher and Tyler leans in closer. "It wouldn't surprise me so much with the girls, but you as a dealer? _Hell no_."

This time Nathan can't hold back the laughter and he gives Tyler a shove so that the bigger football player almost slides off his barstool. "Just drink your shot," he chuckles and tosses back the much tastier alcohol. Laughing feels good and the way the liquor is starting to make his brain all fuzzy feels even better.

When Tyler nods in the direction of a couple of blonde girls, he's still grinning like a fool.

"See them chicks over there?" Owens wingman says, "They're the new recruits for the Blue Devils Cheer squad. What do you say, Prep? You wanna go do some damage on the dance floor?"

"With those girls? No dude, I'm cool here." He knows better than to compete with Ty so he just chuckles and takes a swig of his beer. The guy is a serious chick-magnet with his moves and he'd just look stupid next to him. But Tyler grins.

"Done, done and _done_," he says, sliding off his chair ready to head towards the girls at the same time as nodding to each of them in turn. "You can have any of them, I've been there already."

"Brooke's better." Nathan shrugs bored, not being able to stop the words that come out of his mouth.

"In bed or as a cheerleader?" The smirk is back on Tyler's face. "Or do you mean on the dance floor? 'Cause I _know_ she's got some damn good moves there…"

For a second something ridiculously close to jealousy resides in his chest and he wants to ask how the hell Tyler knows this. He also wants to know if the dance floor is the only place where the guy has experienced Brooke's 'moves'. But before he can ask, Tyler rolls his eyes and grabs him in a tight headlock in the crook of his arm.

"Aww c'mon Preppy! I'd _never_ shag your little princess." Tyler's free hand waves at the Duke Cheerleaders to come their way. "Owen would _kill_ me. But Brookie is not that into you right now, so we need to get you a little distraction. Kay?"

Nathan fights to get out of Tyler's firm hold and when he finally does, he's both annoyed and sweaty. Just like Owen, Tyler is ridiculously strong with his stupid football build, and he's also a smug son of a bitch. Because just as he lets him up for air, Nathan almost comes face to face with the three blondes that Tyler pointed out.

"Nate," he says and makes a sweeping motion with his hand in front of the Duke cheerleaders, "Meet Tina, Amanda and… uhm… Jess?"

The last girl scowls but Tyler just smiles charmingly and the expression on her face is instantly replaced with a blush. Then he throws Nathan a questioning glance as if to say 'How about it?' to which Nathan shakes his head almost unnoticeably.

Because right then something else catches his eye.

Brenna – the chick from his Super Bowl 'sandwich' – is heading towards them from over by the ladies room and he'd rather tap that again than Tyler's leftovers.

"Well, well…" she drawls as she comes close enough. "If it isn't Nathan Scott," she turns to Tyler and raises an eyebrow, "and with Mr. Gage, huh? Hmm… where're the rest of the boys?"

"O's is getting pussy-whipped by his redheaded wifey," Tyler drawls back with an equally bored tone, "Charles is banging his math-tutor and I haven't seen Junior." He leans back against the bar. "What Bren? You can't be satisfied with me and Preppy here?"

Nathan watches as Brenna takes one inviting step towards Tyler before turning in his own direction instead. Her voice lowers into a more seductive whisper and she leans in close to his ear.

"A shame how I had to share you with Sandra last time, Mr. Baller," she breathes, "What do you say? Wanna make it up to me on the dance floor?"

The voice isn't raspy enough to make him instantly hard, and she's missing a set of dimples. But however annoying Tyler's smug expression is, the guy is right. He needs a piece of ass, and dancing doesn't sound that bad anymore.

"Without a doubt, baby," he answers with a smooth voice that he hasn't used since he last fucked Brooke in the janitors closet. "I'll make it up to you _all_ night. In however many ways you want it."

Brenna giggles and Tyler nods appreciatively before throwing his arms around two of the blonde girls that he claims to have _done_.

And Nathan actually smiles for real as they all head deep into the dancing crowd.

Done and _done_, indeed.

---x---

_**January 26**__**th**_

She's precious, like a flower—wild, but innocent. At least that's how Lucas views Brooke Davis. Beautiful, but different. Sometimes he has to stop and touch her, just to be sure that she's real.

When he reads to her, she watches him as if she's fascinated by him. It makes him feel important, loved even. He loves to talk to her on the phone at night, because he can't sleep unless he hears her raspy voice. When they're apart he can't wait to see her again, his heart literally aches in his chest. Sometimes it's like he can't breathe until she's back in the same room.

There is no doubt in Luke's mind that Brooke is the one. Owen knows this, and it's why he's standing right outside the living room entrance watching Lucas. Yeah well, that and the fact that he had promised Brooke.

Rachel and Brooke are upstairs getting ready for their 'double date.' And as Lucas looks relaxed on the couch, quietly watching the television, Owen thinks about how to handle the guy.

Rachel doesn't trust Lucas as far as she can throw him, this much he knows. Nathan hates the guy's guts but that's no shock to Owen. Nathan hates anyone who stands in the way of him and Brooke, Preppy just doesn't quite grasp that revelation himself.

And despite all these things, Owen wants to like Lucas. He _really_ does, because he knows that the guy would worship the ground Brooke walks on. However; he's also changing her, unknowingly making her into someone she's not. Lucas does his homework and because of that, Brooke does too. He doesn't party, he doesn't drink or do drugs. He doesn't publicly make a mockery of himself like his fellow classmates. It won't take long before Brooke follows his example.

He's changing her, for the better in some ways. But in others, it's like holding back the wind. She can't be who she really is if she's fighting to be what she thinks Lucas wants. And Lucas hasn't a clue that he's attempting the impossible, because he doesn't know who she _really_ is. Which of course isn't entirely the guy's fault. Truthfully it's everyone's fault. Brooke's for being so closed up, Nathan's for being so stubborn and Lucas' for being so damn naïve.

Owen doesn't know who he wants to shake first.

"Hey man," Owen speaks out from his spot in the hall and walks into the room. He might as well get this over with.

Lucas looks up at him and tries his best not to seem intimidated, "Hey."

He understands the dude's hesitance. Their last confrontation hadn't exactly been warm and friendly.

"Look, you're dating Brooke now and I think it's time we had 'the talk,'" he grunts and flops down beside Lucas on the couch. "Rachel and Brooke are my girls, no one messes with them. You break one heart, you break them both and when you do that? I break your face." He says the last words nonchalantly but his eyes are anything but.

Lucas swallows the first words that come to mind and instead says, "I'm not going to do that." He shakes his head hoping to prove his point and grimaces, "I've already had this conversation with Rachel, I'm not—"

"Well now you're having this conversation with _me_," Owen growls, "and I really don't like to repeat myself. So for your sake and the girls, don't fuck up. Just remember that once Rachel's done with you? It'll be _my _turn." He warns him much in the same way Rachel had days before. Only this time when it comes from Owen it gives Lucas a sudden sense of panic. Especially after seeing Owens not so pleasant side the other night.

"We're ready!" Brooke sings as she walks into the room with Rachel, who's happy expression matches Brooke's perfectly. "What's wrong?" She pauses just short of the living room and looks between her boyfriend and Owen.

"What? Nothing," Owens face lights up as he throws an arm around Luke's shoulders, "we're bonding down here, aren't we _Broody?_ That's what the girls call you, right?" His arm tightens around Lucas a little too firm.

"Yep," Lucas fakes a smile and darts his eyes towards Brooke, "you ready to go?"

Brooke nods and he jumps up from the couch to take her hand and walk out to Rachel's truck. Owen follows close behind and catches the keys his girlfriend tosses to him over the hood. The doors unlock and everyone gets in, Rachel and Owen up front, Brooke and Lucas in the back.

"So, where are we going again?" Owen asks and starts the car.

Rachel rests her head back and rolls her eyes. "Do you even _listen _when I talk to you?" she snaps and turns to glare at him.

Owen backs out of the driveway and shifts gears, "I'm sorry, were you speaking just now?" His brow wrinkles.

"You asshole!" Rachel's fist collides with his shoulder and he starts to laugh at her.

"Relax babe," he pats her thigh affectionately, "I listen to you." He nods his head. "I just don't remember what you say afterwards — old football injury." He grins and she shakes her head at him in annoyance. "I love you?" he tries for forgiveness.

"Eat me," she scowls at the window.

Owen chuckles deep in his throat, "Seriously, Raye?"

Her face whirls around to glare at him, "Don't be disgusting."

"You started it," he frowns.

Brooke turns to Lucas in the backseat and smirks while jutting her head towards the front seat. They share a small laugh and then Brooke scoots in closer to Lucas who wraps his arm around her and kisses her head softly.

All the while ignoring the watchful eyes of Owen in the rearview mirror.

---x---

She stands with her back to the building and with arms crossed over her chest she heaves the deepest sigh. Blinking against the glint of the sun off the roof top of Karen's Café, Haley James struggles not to exhale another lingering breath. But she can't help it and in a final attempt to prevent the inevitable, she drops her hands down onto the brick overhang and looks down at the street below.

She comes up here to think, and lately she's been finding her way up on the roof of the café more than usual. A tingle starts on the back of her neck and she thinks about the loose brick in the wall a few feet behind her to the left. Behind it is a tin box filled with predictions from her and Lucas over the years.

Not one of those lined paper sheets contains words that would describe how she feels in this precise moment.

She's losing him, her best friend.

"Haley, don't jump! You have your whole life ahead of you!" Jake's voice startles her from her thoughts and soon a shriek bubbles up her throat and out into the air so loud that he takes a step back in shock.

For a few seconds the two of them just simply stand face to face with a three foot gap between them. They don't speak or blink or breathe and then suddenly without warning the two of them simply fall out into hysterical laughter.

"Haley, what are you doing up here?" Jake asks after he composes himself enough to speak audible words.

She sighs and with a small smile still playing on her lips she shrugs and sets herself down onto an old wooden picnic table. "Just taking a break," she picks a piece of lint off her jeans and she squints from the sun as she looks over at Jake. "You?"

"Same," he replies and bobs his head, "I usually come up here on my breaks to do some soul searching… and to call and check up on Jenny," he admits.

Haley can't even imagine how he must feel, he looks beyond exhausted, "How is she? Jenny, I mean," she asks, "I bet it's hard raising a baby at our age."

"Yeah," he agrees and steps in closer to sit down beside her on top of the table, "but my parent's are help— "he pauses to wince as he bends to sit, "helping me out a lot."

"Are you okay?" she gasps in concern and sets a hand down onto his shoulder.

"Huh?" he winces, "Oh, yeah. I'm fine," he adds quickly, "I just," Jake laughs softly to himself, "well let's just say it was a rough night."

Her frown deepens, "Aw, Jake! Were you up with Jenny all night?"

"Jen—?" he pauses then, "—_oh!_ Y-yeah," he nods briskly, "I was up with Jenny…"

"Dude," she sighs and pats his shoulder, "that sucks."

Jake forces a smile.

"And your shoulders are way tense," she adds and squeezes his shoulder for emphasis, "you should ask someone for a massage—oh!" she gasps and he flinches in shock, "Ask Karen! Her fingers are like _magic!_ I swear, one time when Lucas and I were kids I was standing on the swing—"

"You were _standing _on the swing?" Jake's brow rises curiously.

"Shut up," she laughs and slaps his arm, "anyways, I was standing on the swing and trying to, well, you know…" she shrugs slightly, "_swing _myself, when all of the sudden I lose my balance and go flying off the swing straight onto my back."

"Oh," Jake winces in pain, "_ouch_."

"Exactly," she nods, "Lucas had to carry me all the way from the park, to his house. I seriously thought I broke my back, but anyways," she continues, "Karen worked her magic and _viola!_" she holds her arms out, "Good as new."

"Don't ever change, Haley," Jake laughs.

Suddenly the smile wipes clean from her face, "Lucas usually says that to me," she whispers and looks down at her hands silently.

"Hey," he says serious, "what's up? You've been acting weird lately."

"Yeah?" she suddenly snaps, "Well so have _you_."

"Excuse me?" he scoffs in disbelief.

"Ever since last weekend you've been acting really weird, Jake. You come to work looking like a zombie, you _act _like a zombie, and you tense up whenever I talk about Nathan. So what the _hell?_ Don't sit there and ask _me_ what's wrong when it's blatantly obvious that you have far more issues to deal with than I do." She barks out angrily and jumps up to stand, "My breaks over," she mutters and starts to walk away.

"Haley," he calls out to stop her, "wait," he jogs over, "you're right, and I'm sorry, okay?"

"No," she pulls away while shaking her head, "you guys are _always _sorry."

Jake doesn't quite know how to respond, because clearly it's not about just him anymore. Now she's generalizing andhe wishes he knew what to say to keep her from exploding but when he tries, she won't let him.

"Hal—"

"Let me guess," she scowls, you're _sorry_ for saying mean words, or you're _sorry _for being a jerk? You're _sorry_ for neglecting your friends, or you're _sorry_ you ditched movie night plans or forgot you had to work the night shift and _never_ showed up—so who had to cover your ass? _Me! _That's who!" she shouts, "You're always, sorry, sorry, _sorry!_ Stop saying the words you know mean absolutely nothing because _'sorry I missed our last tutor session'_ is utter bullshit because you are _not _sorry! You just know I'll forgive you, well you know what?" she huffs, "F-you!" she screams at the top of her lungs and whirls around to storm towards the stairwell that leads her back to the café.

Jake stares after her for a few bests then exhales a long held breath, "Whoa," he whistles.

---x---

The movie was okay, Owens not all that into chick flicks. He likes action movies, war ones are the best. Or pretty much anything where things blow up and guns go off powerful enough to cut someone in half. The gory shit, the stuff that makes Rachel hide her face in his shoulder and pretend later on that she wasn't scared or grossed out.

But instead of that, he had to sit for two hours in a theatre—_without making out_—to watch some sappy shit called _P.S. I Love You._ What a joke. He can't believe that Brooke cried and he most _definitely _can't believe that Rachel had 'something in her eye.'

Lucas looks at Brooke sympathetically and laughs softly at her while wiping the tears from her face. So Owen looks down at Rachel, who is still slightly tearful herself, and he can't help but mutter, "What the hell is wrong with your face?"

Rachel's mouth falls open slightly from shock and then the tears evaporate into nothing as her face twists into a scowl. She mutters something evil back; something that sounds like it contains the words 'your dick' and 'tiny'. Lucas is still busy doting on Brooke and however corny it sounds, Owen has to admit; Right then he misses Nathan.

At least Preppy had a set of balls.

He wipes a hand over his face and rolls his eyes at Rachel who is now half way through the parking lot. He takes a look behind him and when he realizes that Brooke and Lucas have made it past him and are almost caught up with his redheaded girlfriend; then panic hits him all at once.

He checks his pockets and comes up empty. _Shit._ Starting off in a fast run towards the parking lot, he shouts for Rachel and begs for forgiveness. It's obvious she's pissed at him and even though he usually wouldn't give a shit about this, he does now. Because Rachel's in the car with Brooke and Lucas and he's still running to catch up with them.

More importantly? Because she has the keys.

---x---

Once the silver metallic ball rolls upwards after his paddle's whacked it, Owen mutters a happy '_Yes!'_ under his breath and watches the numbers above his head light up like the Fourth of July. He now owns the new high score for _Tree Hill Pizzeria_'s pinball machine.

He couldn't be prouder.

Owens broad shoulders shake left to right as he does a mini-happy dance and bends down to slip two more quarters into the game. He has to beat his own score before they leave, he _has _to. He knows he can do it too, because he's discovered that if he slaps his palm against the paddle button on the left and hits the machine with his hip to the right, the ball flies straight into the double bonus hole.

"Owen!" Rachel snaps from their table, "Are you going to eat or not? Jesus, I swear sometimes it's like looking after a child!" She complains to Brooke who lightly pats her back playfully pretending to be sympathetic. "Shut up, _whore_," he hears Raye bark at Brooke and he grins to himself silently.

His girlfriend has such eloquent language.

"Luke, why don't you go see what you can do to get him over here?" Brooke asks sweetly and runs her fingers up and down Lucas' spine, making him shiver delightfully in response. Lucas nods obediently and trots over towards the arcade area.

"Hey, man. The girls—"

"I heard 'em," Owen grunts with his eyes still completely focused on the game.

Lucas leans over slightly to see where the ball is at, "Watch out for the—"

"I know!" Owen winces and tries to avoid springing the ball into the open Alligators mouth. "_Shit!_" he curses and slams a hand onto the glass. "That's bullshit! I had that!" He scowls at the laughing reptile-looking piece of shit.

Lucas peaks over his shoulder and sees that Brooke and Rachel are well into a deep discussion. Slowly he creeps further into the arcade room and pulls out a few quarters, "Mind if I take a stab at it?" he asks Owen.

Owens eyes widen in surprise and he nods, "Sure man, let's see what you got." He chuckles and crosses his arms over his large, burly chest.

Back at the table Brooke rolls her eyes at Rachel's latest piece of gossip. "Oh come on Rach, no way in hell is that true." She shakes her head.

"I'm telling you, Bevin said that Theresa told her, that Ashley saw Peyton leaving some house at two in the morning. Looking as if she'd just tried to wrestle the football team." Rachel leans back in her chair and picks a pepperoni from off Owens untouched plate of pizza.

"And it wasn't Nathan's?" Brooke questions and Rachel moves her head side to side in the negative. "Well…" Brooke nibbles her bottom lip curiously, "Then who was it?"

"No clue," Rachel shrugs, "but all I'm saying is that it explains _a lot_."

"How so? What the hell does any of that have to do with anything?" Brooke snorts and shakes her head annoyed.

"Brooke, one of these days you're going to have to get back at Peyton for being such a damn _bitch_ all the time. You need to collect all the dirt on her that you can. That way when the whole 'Brathan-affair' comes to light, you can hit her with a piece of info that will bring her to her knees." Rachel's grin is wicked.

"I'm done with Nathan," Brooke sighs and plays with the straw in her diet coke, "so I'm not worried about that."

"Yeah," Rachel scoffs, "you're done with Nathan. Oh, okay, yeah I believe you." She laughs to herself and looks over at Owen and Lucas who are completely enthralled at the pinball machine. "So much for sending the puppy after the dog," she snorts.

"Lucas!" Brooke shouts and startles the poor boy so bad that he fumbles his fingers and looses the ball down past the two slapping paddles.

The bell at the entrance rings to signal that there are new people coming in, and Rachel eyes the incoming crowd behind Brooke's back. "Let the boys play, B," her gaze flicks to a familiar face and she looks back at Brooke trying to play cool.

"Fine," Brooke pouts in her seat completely unaware of the elephant in the room.

"I'm…" Rachel pauses, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom, I'll be right back. Try and call Peyton and see if she answers." She smirks evilly, "I mean, seeing as how she had a long night and all."

"Shut up," Brooke swats her hand out to smack Rachel's butt and she walks past her. Then she digs out her phone and dials Peyton immediately.

The four boys at the counter laugh and playfully throw mock punches at each other just like any other teenage boys their age. But there is one lone wolf in the pack who's currently glaring daggers towards the back. Rachel feels a weird sense of suspicion overwhelm her when she realizes who Nathan is looking at.

"Don't you dare be angry with him," she growls low enough to garner his attention and not interrupt the playful boys to their left. "I had to _make _him come with us."

"Yeah? Well they seem pretty chummy to me," Nathan snaps with a hateful look on his face.

"What are you saying, Nathan?" Rachel scoffs in disbelief, "Are you honestly going to make Owen choose sides?"

"I shouldn't have to do anything," he looks down at her with indifference and shrugs his shoulders, "I'm just glad I know what kind of guy he is now."

Rachel's fingers flex on her right hand, "Are you looking to get your ass kicked? Because I'll do it. It don't matter if you're bigger or stronger because I'm smaller and I'm faster and it will take me two seconds to bring you down to your knees."

His gaze flips down to size her up, "Nah," he shakes his head, "you might enjoy it too much."

"Bet your ass I would," she grunts ignoring his sexual insinuation and goes for the violence angle. "Just face it, Nathan. She's with Lucas now, just leave her alone will you? I'm sick of your fucking games, already!"

"I'm not doing shit! She's the one who calls _me. _Not the other way around," he barks in her face. "I can't help it if we hang out in the same circles or that Tree Hill is just so god damn small."

"There a problem here?" Owens gruff voice enters the conversation suddenly and his warm hands encompass her shoulders soothingly. "Sup, Preppy?"

Nathan scowls, "I see you made a new friend."

"Yeah? What of it? He's not so bad, a little geeky maybe but he treats Brooke good. I can't hate on him for that." He shrugs. "Why? What's your problem? You aren't going all girly on me now are you, Preppy? You gonna make me take a side? Team Luke or Team Nate?" He chuckles, "Don't be such a whiny bitch, Nathan. You're better than that."

"What the fuck do you know?" Nathan snaps with a fire in his eyes, "I'm out of here." He turns his back, "Aye, Tim catch a ride with Darren, I'm out." He waves a hand and pushes out the door.

Owen frowns and moves to follow him out but Rachel stops him. "Don't you give into that childish tantrum," she warns him. "Nathan's being an ass and if you encourage that I swear to you Owen, the next time you see me naked we will be graduating college."

A sigh escapes his lips and his hands squeeze her shoulders, "But I don't want him to get all mad at me." His lip juts out slightly, "I mean, I meant what I said but some time's it takes a while for Preppy to _get _it." He taps his head for emphasis on his point.

Her hand presses into his chest further, "Owen," she looks up into his eyes serious, "give him enough time to _get it _then." She tells him and pulls his face down to hers, "I know Nathan is your friend, baby." She sighs, "But I need for you be nice to Lucas for Brooke. She likes him, _a lot_."

He grumbles under his breath and then mutters, "_Fine_. I'll call Preppy later then."

"Thank you, Owen." She smiles.

He rolls his eyes, "Your welcome, _Rachel_."

"Hey," she knocks his chin and stares up at his broody expression, "what the hell is wrong with your face?" She grimaces and he squeezes her sides until she squeals.

---x---

_**January 27**__**th**_

He usually can't stay the night. His mother worries if he doesn't come home and Brooke doesn't want to find out how angry it would make Karen to find her and Lucas naked together in his bed in the morning. The look on Keith's face when he walked in on them mid make-out that one time had been more than enough.

So she tries not to pout when he goes home on his own after a date or an evening at hers or Rachel's house. She doesn't complain when Karen knocks on the door and tells them its time say goodnight.

But last night after the Arcade, when Rachel asked if she wanted to sleep at her own house or up the hill at the Gatina's, Lucas' hand had squeezed hers and his nose nuzzled her skin as he whispered that he could stay with her if she wanted.

Of course she freakin' _wanted_! And she showed him that several times too once they were inside the empty house. Thank god that her parents were in Milan this week. Her dad would _not_ have appreciated the sounds she made.

She stretches in the wide bed and lets out a content sigh before opening her eyes. Her arm reaches for his warm body but comes up with nothing and at that instant she feels like she's back in her deal with Nathan, or even before that.

Going to bed with someone and then waking up alone.

She used to like it that way. _Clean and simple_.

But this morning she had looked forward to something else. It's a little scary but she wanted to wake up all curled up to him, lure him into having lazy Saturday morning sex with her and maybe even let him take her to breakfast.

Disappointment rolls off of her in waves. She's someone's girlfriend, and _nothing_ has changed.

"Oh, you're awake?"

Her head snaps up from the pillow to see the missing blonde boy in the doorway to her room. The smile on his face is warm and he's holding two coffees and a paper bag. "I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed," he says shyly and kicks off his shoes before setting down the items he's holding on her desk. "Did you know that there is absolutely _nothing_ in your fridge?" He looks confused, "Not even milk."

Butterflies fill her insides and she sits up, leaning on her elbows. He had tried _making_ her breakfast. How cute!

"My mother isn't very domestic," she mumbles and smiles when he pulls his hoody over his head and his hair gets even messier than before. _Keep going_, she thinks, _keep undressing_…

He looks back at her and he wonders if she realizes that the sheet has fallen down, exposing her nakedness. He can feel a slight blush creeping up his cheeks as he finds himself blatantly staring at her chest and almost forgetting about the coffee and the bagels that he's walked almost five blocks to get.

He wonders if she'd find it weird if he just got naked again and got back into the bed with her, and when she smiles even wider and says, "Are you still going to give me breakfast _in_ bed?", then he thinks, _What the heck_?, and just goes for it.

"I was planning on it. What do you think?"

"I'd say it's a _very_ good plan you've got there, Broody."

He steps out of his jeans and while getting out of his t-shirt, nervousness kind of grabs hold of him again. Just like this morning when he woke up and realized that _Brooke Davis_ was sleeping with her head on his chest and her arm wrapped around his waist. It's moments like that, or like now when she's naked and gorgeous and beckoning for him to come kiss her, that he doesn't understand how he ended up here.

How can a girl like this even want him?

Just in his boxers, he grabs the makeshift breakfast again and walks over to her. But when she lifts the covers so that he can get back into the warmth of the bed, then he almost regrets not just leaving the stuff where it was.

"Can I just have you for breakfast?" he mumbles and tries to redirect his eyes back to her face. She giggles when he fails miserably.

"I'll let you feed me the bagel?" she offers with a wink and he gladly takes her up on it.

It's not like he could say no to the girl anyway.

---x---

He shoots the ball out time and time again and it goes in… every time. He doesn't even have to think about it. He doesn't have to try. He bets he can even do it without looking.

It's nearly 8 am and he's been out here on the driveway for almost a hour. He can hear dishes clanking around in the kitchen sink as his mother cleans up breakfast. Thankfully, Dan is out. He'd left shortly after eating—and scolding Nathan for only running 3 miles that morning instead of the usual 5—and Nathan had escaped to the driveway. He was only too glad to see his father go. After being lectured about his recent bad behavior at practice he was just about fed up with Dan's voice.

_Swish_.

"You're pouting," a voice startles him from his regime.

He whirls around to see Peyton staring back at him in her black leather jacket, slim fitting blue jeans and rock band t-shirt. She stands with arms crossed and he glances down at her black Chucks to see one tapping incessantly.

"Is there a reason you're here?" he scoffs and rears his arms back to shoot for the basket again.

_Swish_.

"You're so cute when you sulk," she teases, "what? Did Danny boy really give it to you this morning? I heard about your little stunt at practice the other day."

He rolls his eyes and chases after the ball so that he can make the shot again. "Really? And what stunt is that?" he asks without turning to look at her.

Peyton shrugs and steps in closer, "You keep walking out and I'm betting that not even daddy can save your ass from the bench."

"You didn't answer my question," Nathan grunts and shoots again.

_Swish_.

"What's with you lately, huh?" she asks.

"Nothing, why?" he mutters carelessly and bounces the ball around the driveway.

She rolls her eyes bored.

"Look, Peyt," he says and dribbles the ball between his legs, "don't take this the wrong way, but," he tosses the ball into the air and spins it on his finger, "what the fuck are you doing here? We're not due for a reunion for at least a couple more days. And honestly? I may need an extension," he snorts and lets the ball drop, bounces it and shoots for the basket.

_Swish_.

The scowl he's so used to finally creeps its way across her face, "You know what? Fuck you, Nathan. I didn't come here to get back together, because honestly? Why _would_ I? I mean, it's not like you're a damn catch or anything."

"Well, look who's calling the kettle black?" he laughs and pushes the ball under his arm, "Hello, Pot," he gives her a sarcastic wave, "nice to meet you."

Peyton yanks the ball from out his grip and glares at him fiercely, "I came here because someone told me you looked like you needed to talk to someone."

Nathan's eyes widen, "And you thought that _you_ of all people would get _me_ to open up?" he laughs and reaches for the ball but she jerks it away.

"No," she snaps, "I'm not that stupid. But I thought that I would come and see for myself if the rumors were true."

"What rumors," he sets a hand on his hip in boredom.

She shrugs, "That your falling off the wagon. Everyone's talking about how you keep skipping practice and a few have said you've been partying up at Duke a lot lately."

"And you care because…?" he rolls a hand for her to continue.

"I don't," she growls.

"You do," he points at her, "awww, Peyt," he fakes a soft expression, "are you getting nostalgic?" he juts his lip out, "Or jealous? Don't worry baby, they don't mean anything to me. You know you'll always be my number one girl," he dares to slide a finger down the bridge of her nose then quickly extracts the ball from her hands and shoots.

_Swish_.

"So who is this mystery person who felt compelled to tell you that I may need someone to—"

"Brooke," she blurts.

He almost drops the ball from his hands but quickly regains his composure to shoot the ball out once more towards the basket. It circles the rim once before going in. Not quite as effortless as before but it goes in none the less.

"How the hell did that come up in conversation?" he scoffs and picks up the ball. "And since when are you two buddy-buddy again?"

"She's not the only one who's come up to me," Peyton informs him, "the guys on your team? Hell, even your fucking _tutor_ has come up to me. I'm sick of everyone thinking that I have some kind of control over you. So get your shit together, Nathan." She snaps angrily.

Nathan rolls his eyes and shoots for the basket.

_Swish_.

Suddenly she storms over to confront him, "News flash? You are _not _the only person with crap going on in your life. I don't care how upset you are about your parents or the counseling or whatever the hell it is that's bothering you, okay? I have my own shit to deal with, I don't need people coming up to me and asking me about _yours_."

"You done?" he mutters when she stops to stare at him. "Or do you need a couple more minutes to bitch at me some more? Don't worry, I can pretend to listen like I have been since you got here."

Her eyes narrow, "You're an asshole," she hisses and slams a hand into his shoulder. "The next time you feel like doing something to make people ask questions? _Don't_."

"But then how will I get your attention, Peyt?" he frowns and pretends to pout.

"Why don't you fuck the tutor?" she suggests, "That ought to be a nice distraction for you. Or maybe you can mess with Lucas again? What's the matter baby, afraid of being replaced? Guess who's the one shining while you're walking out on practice? I wouldn't be surprised if Whitey decided to set your ass on the bench to watch your brother rack up the points on the score board." She taunts him.

"Weren't you leaving?" he scowls.

Peyton laughs and taps the ball in his hands, "Yeah, that's _exactly_ what I'm going to do."

He watches her leave and grinds his teeth in annoyance. When she gets in her car and drives off she honks twice and then flips him off. Then Nathan turns back to the basket and shoots the ball.

_Brick_.

---x---

Don't forget to check the LJ for this update's pic of the week!


	19. Certain Words In Uncertain Times

---x---

**Part 2:**_**Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 18: **_Certain Words in Uncertain Times_

**Junior Year**

_**January 29**__**th**_

"Mind if I ask you for a favor?" she says the moment he opens the door in his room that leads to the back porch.

Lucas isn't sure what surprises him more, the fact that Peyton Sawyer is at his bedroom door—or the fact that she wants a favor.

"Well," he smirks, "good morning to you, too. Now how can I help you, Ms. Sawyer?" casually he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorframe.

Peyton chuckles softly at his playfulness and sighs, "It's my car again, darn thing," she frowns, "can I get a ride to school?"

"Sure," he smiles and backs away to grab his school bag, "and later after practice and stuff I'll take a look under the hood, kay?"

Her eyes pop open for a second and Peyton has to remind herself to get her mind out of the gutter. Not everyone spoke like Nathan, or even herself. It's a twisted relationship she shares with the younger Scott. But he's not answering his phone and Lucas is just right next door.

"Brooke won't mind, right?" Peyton wrinkles her nose as she follows him to the street where his truck is parked.

"What?" he snorts, "Please, you're her best friend. Why would she mind?"

"I dunno," she shrugs shyly then smiles and nods her head in thanks before taking his hand to help her inside the truck.

He laughs softly then hurries around to jump into the driver's seat, "It'll be a tight fit, but," he glances at the space between them and shrugs, "but I'm sure she won't mind."

"What do you mean, '_tight fit_?'" she asks curiously.

He chuckles again and pulls out onto the street, "You, me and Brooke." He blinks at her as if she should know what he means.

"Uhh," she laughs nervous, "sorry buddy, but I don't do threesomes. At least not without a few drinks and a hit of E first," she winks.

Now it's Lucas' turn to look shocked, "Um, well—er-uh," he coughs and looks away from her. "I meant in the truck," he says and turns the wheel in the direction of Rachel's house.

Then it dawns on her, _duh!_ Of course Lucas drives Brooke to school. It's impossible to ever even see them apart nowadays. It's quite annoying actually.

"Rachel, too?" she asks dreading the thought of sitting next to the bitch all the way to school.

Lucas speeds up to pass a yellow light and laughs outwardly amused, "Rachel? In _my_ truck?" he shakes his head and laughs again, "that will be the day."

"Number one rule when it comes to Brooke," Peyton teases, "if you're not in with the friends, then you're not in at all."

He smirks and looks at her from the corner of his eye, "Well, I'm okay with Rachel. We tolerate each other, so I'm good there. But it's the other one I'm not sure about…" his lips twitch.

He's so fucking _cute_, how could she not claim him before Brooke? Sure, Nathan was probably better in more ways than one but the amount of power she could control Lucas with was unparallel. She bets when Brooke snaps her fingers he asks how high before she could even ask for him to jump.

"Other one?" she inquires playfully, "and who might this be?"

He shrugs, "Eh, you might know her. She's tall, blonde and leggy. She likes to wear this black leather jacket because she thinks it makes her look like a badass and in truth, she kinda does…"

"Shut up," she laughs and smacks his arm.

Lucas snickers and pulls up onto Rachel's driveway, "Be right back," he tells her and jogs up to the front door.

Peyton watches him knock a few times then sees Owen's huge frame emerge from the doorway. Standing next to the guy, Peyton has to say that Lucas appears almost wimpy. Then suddenly Brooke squeezes her way past by slipping out under Owen's arm. She waves him goodbye then skips towards the truck to the driver's seat, fully prepared to slide over to where Peyton is sitting now.

"Hey, you! What are you doing here?" Brooke laughs happily and yelps when Lucas smacks her butt that's hanging out the door. "Luke!" she giggles then rolls her eyes at Peyton as if they share some sort of inside joke about it. Which they don't.

It irritates Peyton when Brooke acts like they're exactly as close with each other as they used to be when they were kids. Sometimes she wonders if she even really wants to be friends with the girl anymore. They're two different people now and it seems as I f Brooke is the only one who hasn't realized that fact just yet.

"My car," Peyton forces a cheerful smile, "it's out of commission again."

"Hmm," Brooke makes a face, "well, we'll just have to do something about that now won't we? Hey, Broody, you fix cars don't you?" she turns to look at her boyfriend curiously and giggles huskily at the joke she's just made.

Peyton rolls her eyes and sticks her head out her window for fresh air.

Because all of the fluffy cheese going on inside is suffocating.

---x---

It's early still, maybe a little after nine. But with all the noise that Brooke had made when getting up, and then that loud, annoying sound of Lucas' shitty truck, she hadn't been able to get back to sleep.

Owen snored on like nothing could bother him while she tossed and turned and finally she cursed and got up. She's not going to school today, hence Lucas picking Brooke up before eight o'clock.

No, today Rachel plans to just take a mental health day and hung out with Owen. It's not every day that he has neither classes nor practice.

"Babe, is this yours?" Owen calls from the living room, and when she turns she sees her tall boyfriend step into the kitchen with a pink lacy bra hanging over his outstretched finger.

"Pink?" she asks with a quirked brow. "Do I _look_ like I would wear pink?"

Owen yawns and shrugs innocently. "Maybe?"

"Stop playing with Brooke's underwear, Owen," she mutters although she finds it rather amusing. And turning back to her cooking, she adds, "Where the hell did you find that anyway?"

He chuckles behind her and seconds later his hands slide around her waist. "On the couch," he breathes in her ear. "Hanging there like a freaking stop sign." His breath is hot on her skin and she can't hold back the smile when he fakes a fatherly voice and says, "Has she been sneaking in late, making out with that boy? Should we maybe sit down with her and have the talk about the birds and the bees?"

She laughs and throws some bacon in the frying pan while angling her head so that he can kiss her neck. "Shut up, Owen. She's not exactly a virgin, you know," she laughs and a shiver runs up her spine when he bites her earlobe.

He chuckles. "You're right. But she's so _little_." The playfulness is obvious in his tone because he's probably fully aware about the escapades that her brunette friend has had with boys. But even so, she knows what he means. Lately, when Brooke's with Lucas, she seems younger. More naïve.

Owens tongue travels over the skin right below her ear and as if reading her mind he laughs, "I'm still not sure about pretty-boy Luke though. Maybe I should have the talk with _him_?"

It's a funny thought, Owen giving Lucas advice about sex, and she laughs even louder when she thinks about how much Lucas could benefit from it. Lucas is way too _sweet_ and she still can't understand how Brooke can suffer through all that handholding and eye gazing without feeling nauseated. But Brooke seems happy and that's all she needs to know.

"Did you talk to Nathan?" she asks instead and leaves the breakfast cooking for a second to turn in Owens arms. Not that she cares about anything concerning Nathan, but she knows that Owen does and she's tired of having Brooke's previous Scott-boy sandwich be the elephant in the room. It's been causing way to many arguments between them all lately.

"Preppy doesn't _need_ advice," Owen smirks almost as if he's a proud big brother. "He's good on his own. Plus, I hear Tyler has him covered for now."

"I didn't mean that you should talk to him about _sex_, Owen," she snorts and produces a disgusted face at _that_ thought. That discussion would go straight into the gutter in seconds and she doesn't even want to think about where it would lead. "I meant, did you talk to him about the little 'disagreement' that you had the other night?"

Owens earlier smirk transforms into a frown. "Naw, I've called him but Prep's been screening my calls." He chuckles humorlessly. "It's cool though. The boy's gotta learn that he's not always gonna get stuff his way."

"That's right." She nods and slides her palms up his t-shirt and over his defined abs. "Nate _is_ a spoiled brat."

"Maybe so, but then again, _I _was a coldhearted asshole. A little Jeckle & Hyde of me to kick B out the house for him one weekend and then the next I'm hangin' out with those same two people? Poor kid, how is he supposed to decipher those mixed signals? He might have been a punk with a sucky attitude, but he's crushing on little B and it must've felt really shitty to have to watch us all trade him in for Luke that way." He nudges her with his nose. "He's jealous and he just needs to cool off, so I'm leaving him be for a while."

"Don't be ridiculous," she snorts and retracts to look at him, "Nathan isn't _crushing_ on Brooke, he's just got a wounded ego. There's a big difference–"

She doesn't make it further because Owen grabs her around the waist firmly and she squeals when he hoists her up to sit on the kitchen counter. Then he moves in to stand between her thighs.

"Rachel," he says softly, and it makes her stay silent because he rarely uses her full name. "Are you just pretending to be oblivious or have you forgotten how you and I started out?"

His brown eyes twinkle with amusement and she feels like he's somehow teasing her.

Rachel Gatina _does not_ like to be teased.

"Of course I haven't forgotten," she chides him. "But what the hell does _that_ have to do with Nathan? As a matter of fact, smartass, what does that have to do with _anything_?" Her voice has gotten an irritated pitch but he doesn't seem to care one bit. "And what the hell do you mean by Tyler having him covered?" She scoffs, "Tyler Gage – however charming – is a man-whore. He'll just make Nathan into more of a self-centered asshole."

"True," he growls playfully and swops in to kiss her collarbone, "But Preppy could need some fun. And I distinctly remember you calling me both a man-whore _and_ a self-centered asshole not that long ago…"

"Yeah, and?"

His mouth moves to her shoulder. "I'm just saying that Nathan is still growing," he mumbles, "Give the guy a break, Raye. He's just like I was in high school."

This time she can't help but to roll her eyes. "_Owen_," she presses, "Seriously?"

He doesn't even answer her, instead he leans in to kiss her. "_God_, you're so hot when you're frustrated," he mumbles and sucks her bottom lip in between his. But she pushes him back.

"What are you talking about? Nathan is _nothing_ like you and –"

His strong hands on her hips jerk her forward so that she almost slams into his chest and then he shuts her up with his mouth and tongue. In the back of her mind, she registers that the bacon is burning but his talented hands and lips are just not possible to resist.

Her tank top disappears before she has time to blink and for a second her mind _does_ travel back to how it all started between herself and the quarterback who's currently ridding her of her bra.

_It started out exactly this way_, she thinks as her head falls back against the wall behind her and she lets out a strangled moan.

It started out with frustration, with him pissing her off, and with lots and lots of sex.

---x---

He's really not looking forward to practice. In fact, he's pretty sure he doesn't want to play against Raleigh this weekend either. Let Lucas have it. Then again, he has everything else that Nathan used to have.

His place in the spotlight, his friends, his team, his girls…

He can't ditch practice again. Whitey is sure to pitch a fit and Dan would make his life even more miserable than he already is. So Nathan sucks it up and trudges on towards the gym. But on his way he passes the parking lot and stops dead.

"Preppy!" a voice shouts and waves a hand out his car.

Nathan looks around at the few students who remain in the lot and then looks back at Tyler Gage, the college guy who sticks out like a sore thumb. No way could Tyler ever pass a s a high school student—not that he would want to—because like Owen, he stands out in a crowd without even trying.

"What up, bro?" Tyler bounds over in good spirits. "So, this is what it's like in Tree Hill, huh?" he nods his head and takes a look around, "How… _boring_." He smirks and Nathan rolls his eyes.

"Tyler, what the hell are you doing here?" he asks and bumps his fist with him in greeting.

"Prep, come on!" Tyler scoffs, "It's my birthday, man! Time to party!" he shouts.

Nathan's face scrunches up in confusion, "What? You don't turn 21 for another week, numb nuts." He laughs and pretends to shoot a few playful jabs at his stomach.

"I know," Tyler defends himself, "but it's my _last _week of being 20. Plus, it's spirit week and it's like party central up at Duke right now. So get your shit and let's go!" he slaps Nathan's shoulder excitedly.

"Gage," he shakes his head and chuckles, "is partying all you ever think about?"

"Nah," Tyler answers with a grimace, "shit, there's _beer_ and girls, too!" He laughs out loud and clamps a hand down onto Nathan's shoulder, "So come on, Prep, let's go. I'll drive."

"I got practice, man, I can't," Nathan frowns.

Tyler laughs, "You're kidding, right?"

"No," Nathan replies serious, "I'm not. If I skip one more practice I'll get benched."

"Aren't you like the best guy on the team? Trust me, bro, they won't risk not playing you. You own that team, Prep."

"Not since _Lucas_ joined the team."

"Say _what_?" Tyler's eyes go wide, "You're shittin' me," he frowns and shakes his head.

Nathan scowls, "I wish I was."

"So hold up," Tyler pauses to think, "this fool's got your spot on the team _and _your girl?"

"She's not—"

"Bullshit, Prep, everyone at Duke _knows_ not to hit that. Just like the girls steered clear of you until you fucked Brenna," he smirks, "but now you're both fair game. Which is why you should come out tonight and get fucked up!" he urges.

"I already said I can't," Nathan snaps suddenly, "did you not hear me?"

"Selective hearing, bro," he points to his ear, "you should try it. Anyways, come on."

"Now you're pissing me off," Nathan mutters in annoyance.

"Lighten up and quit being such a whiney little bitch, Nathan. Seriously? You're pathetic," he scoffs.

"What did you just—"

"Brooke!" Tyler shouts of the blue, "Hey girl, where's the love?" he pushes Nathan aside and takes a step towards the gym where Brooke stands like a deer caught in headlights.

Nathan groans under his breath and remains standing where he is. It's been nearly a month since Super Bowl Sunday and she's made up with everyone except for Nathan. In fact, the two haven't really even spoken since that day. Well, there was that one time in History when she passed him a note from Peyton. Other than that, when they see each other in the halls it's as if they're complete strangers.

"Hey, Ty," she smiles softly and makes her way over after fighting a very ominous inner battle with herself.

Tyler opens his arms wide and encircles her in a tight hug when she walks into his embrace, "Damn girl, I feel like it's been forever since I last saw you. What's up with that?"

"What do you mean?" she fidgets somewhat uncomfortably.

Nathan has to bite his tongue not to comment on how ridiculous she's being.

"B," Tyler grunts, "don't play stupid, it's not a good look for you."

"Shut up, Tyler!" her eyes widen and she shoots a hand out to smack his arm, "I've been busy, okay? I'm sorry if I can't spend all my time partying at Duke, but _some _people actually have a life outside of that place, okay?" when she says this her eyes dart to Nathan as if she's implying something.

"Whoa," Tyler picks up on the hostile vibe right away, "what are you saying, Brooke? That me and Prep got no ambitions in life? Damn girl, pretty boy got you all kinds of twisted, don't he?"

"Excuse me?" Brooke scowls immediately getting defensive.

Nathan sees a disaster waiting to happen between the two arguing people in front of him, but he says and does nothing. Why? Because it's about time someone knocked that girl off the high horse named Lucas that she's been riding. Figuratively and _literally_.

The thought sends a grimace to his face.

"I'm just sayin', B," Tyler shrugs his shoulders, "you've been acting like a stuck up bitch lately and all of us are getting tired of it."

"Oh you did _not _just call me a bitch to my face," her voice grows deep and husky in her rising temper.

"I said you're _acting _like a bitch, there's a difference, B," he shakes his head disappointed in her behavior. "It's like ever since you hooked up with that other Scott kid, you suddenly think you better than all of us."

"Excuse me?" she scoffs in sheer disbelief, "but I am not the one who publicly _shunned _someone out of the house that day at that stupid Super Bowl party, _Tyler_," she snaps angrily. "And if anyone thinks they're superior it's you and everyone else in that _damn _house. Yes, I said it—_what?_" she shouts as she barges up into Tyler's face.

"Why the hell are you getting all up in my face for?" Tyler frowns, "Damn, B, since when did this become violent?" he gently pushes her back a step with his hands on her shoulders. "I was just sayin'," he shrugs, "you're different."

Brooke gulps silently and stares back at Tyler for a few tantalizing seconds before she turns to look at Nathan. "You're just loving, aren't you?" she whispers almost tearfully.

"Nah," Tyler butts back in, "don't bring Prep up into this, he ain't got nothing to do with what we're talking about right here. This is a conversation is between you and me," he snorts, "and maybe even the house."

"Tyler," Nathan can't help but to cut in, "lay off, O's gonna knock you out when she runs back to Rachel crying about this."

"What?" Brooke backpedals a few steps in complete shock.

Nathan rolls his eyes annoyed, he's had enough, "Just like you did at the house that day when your dumbass brought Lucas to a _Sigma Nu_ function. Are you brain dead?" he laughs at her, "That had to be the second stupidest decision you've ever made."

Her scowl deepens, "And the first? Hooking up with _you?_" she snaps and eyes him up and down in disgust.

He laughs and looks at Tyler who swoops down in his defense and says, "Nah, I think it's obvious what your first mistake is. And he's inside that building behind you," he points towards the gym.

"You know what, Tyler? You don't even _know_ Lucas so you have no right to say anything about him. You're only acting like this because of that asshole right there and his wounded ego," she hisses and jabs a finger into Nathan's chest. "Are you happy? Does watching this make you feel any better about yourself? I thought Tyler was my friend," she scoffs and shakes her head, "I thought the house had my back. But guess what? They don't. They have _yours_," her voice starts to shake.

Nathan blinks a few times and stares down at her hand that's still touching his jacket. He doesn't know what the hell it is she expects him to say. She brought this on herself, not him. He hasn't asked anyone to do a single thing.

"Brooke," Tyler reaches out to touch her arm and she jerks away from him forcefully.

"Don't touch me," she cries out full of hurt and anger then turns to gaze at Nathan again. "If it wasn't for me none of them would even know who you _are_," she tells him with her eyes locked with his in an intense stare.

He gulps the thudding of his heart back down from his throat and exhales a long held breath, he hasn't been this close to her in weeks. He can smell the apricot body spray that she likes to spray on herself before practice. His eyes travel to her mouth and he knows that the gloss that's been delicately rolled across her lips tastes like strawberries.

"What do you want me to say, Brooke?" he's barely able to push the words out. "That I'm sorry? Because I'm not," his eyes harden as he pulls back from her and breaks their connection.

She's not his, she never was.

"I can't help who sides with me and who sides with you, look at Owen," he snorts, "the guy is best friends with Lu—"

"That is a lie and you know it," her voice is poison filled, "Lucas can't even have a decent conversation with Owen because all Owen says in reply is a bunch of grunts and growls. And do you know why?" she asks even though all three of them know she doesn't expect an answer, "because of _you_. Because Owen is loyal to both me and _you_. So he tolerates Lucas for me but he _hates _him because of you. So naturally, the entire Sigma Nu house-"

"You know what, Brooke?" Nathan barks out suddenly, "get over it."

Tyler's brow rises high in shock of Nathan's outburst, and Brooke flinches back in surprise as well.

"I didn't ask for anyone to choose sides. If you really want to get into this?" he steps up into her personal air space, "then why don't you take a look around school, huh? Because everybody _here _has accepted you and Lucas with open arms. So back the fuck up out of _my _face just because everyone else at Duke isn't bending over backwards to kiss your ass!"

Brooke's eyes narrow, "We were never even _together!_" she screams suddenly and slams her hands into Nathan's chest.

"What the hell, Davis?" Nathan fights against her slapping hands and grabs onto her wrists, "Knock it off!" he shouts into her face and then suddenly they both freeze where they stand because they start to realize just how close their faces are from each other.

It's still winter in Tree Hill and with the slight chill in the air their breaths cloud in front of their lips, and from the deep panting between both Brooke and Nathan they puff out smoke signals.

"I wish I never slept with you," she says soft enough for only Nathan to hear.

"No you don't," he challenges her and squeezes his firm grip on her wrists until she winces. "You just wish you never let your feelings get in the way."

"So do you," she growls.

He laughs and shakes his head, then his hands go slack on her wrists and her arms fall back down to her sides. "See, that's where you're wrong, Brooke. Because I never once forgot what we were," he sneers.

"And what's that?" she scowls back at him.

"A bunch of one night stands _thrown_ together," he smirks and her eyes widen just before she charges forward again.

"Whoa, whoa," Tyler shoves his way in between the two of them.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Nathan's hands fly up into the air as he backs away and tries to clear his nose free of Brooke's perfumes and hair products. He swears that sometimes he can still smell her even when she's nowhere in sight.

"Let go of me!" she snaps.

"Do you love him?" Tyler blurts out suddenly.

Nathan feels his stomach drop to the floor for some unexplainable reason.

"What?" Brooke slumps in Tyler's arms and looks towards Nathan.

"Lucas," Tyler says and Nathan looks away to stare at the parking lot.

"I…" she pauses and blinks at Tyler's chest in deep thought, "I…"

"Because if you do?" Tyler saves her from answering, "Then I promise to lay off the kid," he says referring to Lucas. "If you _do_," he shakes her by the shoulders slightly, "then I'll talk to the other guys and in respect to you? We'll respect him."

She says nothing but gives him a small nod of appreciation.

"I say and do what I do cuz I got love for you, B," Tyler leans forward and kisses her forehead. "Believe it, you feel me?"

She nods again and hugs her arms around herself then slowly starts to back away. "I gotta… go," she whispers.

"Alright," Tyler says and fluffs her hair playfully, "don't be a stranger, okay?"

She smiles meekly and heads off in the opposite direction from the gym. From the corner of Nathan's eye he can guess that she's going towards her locker. He takes a deep breath and forces his gaze to Tyler who is now staring at him intently.

"What," he mutters.

Tyler's blank face molds into an expression Nathan's never seen before on him, Owen? Yes. But Tyler? No fucking way.

"You wanna know something?" he says and Nathan grunts in response so he continues, "When I asked her if she loved him?" he snickers, "her first reaction should have been Lucas, but it wasn't."

"What are you playing at, Tyler?" Nathan growls.

"I'm just sayin'," Tyler holds his hands up.

Nathan says nothing and closes his eyes to take another deep breath.

"So," Tyler slaps a hand down onto his shoulder, "you wanna get drunk now? Or do you still wanna pretend like you don't give a shit that Brooke's not your girl anymore?"

He scowls at Tyler but hates that he doesn't really have a valid response, so instead he turns to him and says,

"Let's get fucked up."

---x---

Practice has already started and Lucas is in the middle of running suicides up and down the court when he sees Peyton walk in. Seconds later Rachel comes through the doors and he's so busy checking for Brooke that he collides with Jake.

But no Brooke shows up.

During a water-break he walks over to ask Rachel where she is, but the redhead looks grumpy and she merely shrugs and mutters that she's hardly Brooke's keeper and that he should keep track of his own damn girlfriend. And when Bevin calls her she just walks away, leaving him standing there like an idiot.

It's obvious that Rachel is annoyed and he lets her go. Instead he stops Peyton and asks her about his girlfriend's whereabouts. He had met up with Brooke between classes earlier and she hadn't said anything about skipping practice. She had just been her cheery self and now he has to wonder why she didn't tell him if something was wrong.

Peyton says she doesn't know either and he frowns and thanks her but he just can't get back into the game after that. Brooke is the Captain and she should be at practice.

Then again, their own team captain is missing in action as well. Coach had ranted about Nathan's absence for ten minutes.

After practice there is still no sign of Brooke but when he gets dressed after showering, he gets a text from her.

_Had to fix some stuff. R we still on 4 our date tonight?_

He pulls a sweater over his head and then texts her back.

_Of course. R U ok though? Want me 2 come over?_

He had seen Rachel rush out right before practice ended and suddenly he worries that something has happened with Brooke. But her quick reply seems normal enough to wipe that worry away and replace it with excitement for their movie date.

_I was getting an outfit 4 2nite. Pick me up at 7?_

Then, on his way out to the parking lot, while thinking about his date that night with Brooke, Peyton shouts out for him.

"Luke, wait!"

He turns around just before unlocking the door to the truck and sees her come running from the gym towards his car as if her ass is on fire. Stopping to wait for her, he offers her a confused smile.

"Hi Peyton. What's up?"

She looks a little flushed as if she's stressed and she takes a big gulp of air before saying "Did you find Brooke?"

He shakes his head. "No, but she texted me and told me she had to go home.

"_Damn._ I was supposed to hitch a ride with her." She looks around in the parking lot as if contemplating what to do. "My car is still in the damn shop..."

"You should have left it in Keith's shop," he mutters back silently before swinging his own car door open. "You want me to give you a ride?"

To this offer Peyton's eyes lights up and she looks almost overly grateful. Cheery in a _Brooke-ish_ kind of way that doesn't really suit her.

"Aw, thanks Lucas. That would be awesome! I'm just gonna run in real quick and grab my stuff. Okay?"

He nods again and she takes off back towards the school entrance. Her blond curls bounce around her head and she keeps the leather jacket draped over her shoulder. Sighing, he leans against the hood of the car.

He can't help it that he still eyes Peyton from time to time. After all, he's had a crush on her since the beginning of junior high. And back then it had all been pretty simple; he was infatuated with Peyton from afar and she couldn't have cared less if he stopped breathing. Easy enough to understand since he was a loner from the wrong side of town and she hung out with the popular crowd such as Brooke, Nathan and Rachel.

Now it's all changed.

He kicks the gravel around with his sneaker. It's all a little confusing because if Peyton would have asked for a ride a month ago, he probably would've been jumping with excitement. Now he's impatiently looking at the watch on his wrist.

In less than an hour he's picking Brooke up to take her to have milkshakes before their planned movie-date and he wants to shower and change first. Corny maybe, but he wants to look his best.

Then again, Brooke was going to like that he helped her friend out, right? He's just giving Peyton a ride home – nothing more.

Peyton comes back out and he politely opens the car door for her. She offers a smile and he smiles back. Thinks about the last time he drove her home and she tricked him with the whole "Do you wanna come inside"-thing and how stupid he had felt.

The first couple of minutes in the car are silent. She plays with his car stereo and he simple stays silent because he doesn't have anything to say. Last time they _really_ talked had been at the Basketball banquet and moments later she had run out on him in the middle of a hot make-out session. After that the only words that had been exchanged were 'Hi's, 'See you later's and quick questions about Brooke's whereabouts. But eventually the silence becomes more awkward than to actually talk.

"So how are you?" he asks casually when he's halfway to her house. She gives him another small smile and a tired sigh that sounds hollow.

"It's okay I guess," she says and shrugs. "It's just a little lonely now that dad has left again."

"He left?"

Peyton looks out through the windshield and nods. "Yeah. Five months at sea this time, and with mom's birthday coming up…" she sighs again. "It's just hard, you know?"

He doesn't know, because even though he's grown up without a father, his mom has always been there. Not once had she not prioritized him before herself and he had never had to feel neglected. But the slight tremble of Peyton's bottom lip when she talks tells him that she's sad.

And just when he stops the car outside her house, Peyton starts crying.

He feels weird watching the otherwise so clammed up girl in tears and he awkwardly throws an arm around her shoulders.

"Hey…" he mumbles softly. "Don't cry, Peyt. You have me and Brooke."

She leans her head against his chest and sobs, "_Thank you_," and for a short second he thinks back to the party when she ran out on him. For a second he wonders what would have happened if…

But then he thinks about the cheery brunette that totally captivates him. The dark-haired friend of Peyton's that he's taking to see a romantic comedy tonight, in hope to see her gorgeous dimples.

Brooke Davis.

"Anything you need, Peyton, we'll be there," he continues, stressing the word '_we_' on purpose. And when he thinks that he feels the curly blonde's lips against the skin of his neck, he shrugs it away as something he just imagined. Peyton is after all one of Brooke's _best_ friends.

Another, "Thank you, Luke," slips from her lips and then she slides out of their awkward hug. "I'll see you tomorrow," she adds and tears are still in her eyes as she gets out of the car.

He feels bad for her and for a moment he thinks about asking her to come with them to the movies, but the thought of being alone with Brooke in the darkness of the cinema makes him change his mind. Selfish maybe but he wants Brooke to himself.

He wants to kiss the cheer-captain until she's breathless. He wants to have her giggle and steal his popcorn and he wants to feel her up like a typical teenage boy would on a date.

And on top of this, Peyton _had_ turned him down.

Still he cringes when he watches her unlock the door before he starts the car back up. Maybe it's some kind of corny hero-complex. He just doesn't like to leave her alone when she's sad.

On the other side of the lawn, Peyton hears the car start back up and she turns around and waves to the blond boy. Then she bites the bottom of her lip to keep from laughing and waits another couple of seconds before she dries fake tears off with the sleeve of her jacket. She smiles and walks into the hallway of the house.

She should dust a place on her mantel, because she's a fucking star in the making. If she wanted she could sweep Hollywood by storm. _If _she wanted. That Oscar could be hers, and she'd have so much damn fun winning it.

But is the _golden boy_ worth it?

---x---

"How the hell did you even get to the mall without your car?" Rachel mutters annoyed and turns up on Brooke's driveway.

The redhead is still in her practice gear and she should feel guilty for making Rachel come get her, but she had really needed a ride home and she couldn't call Lucas. If she had then she would have had to explain why she skipped practice to let out steam at the mall.

"I hitched a ride with one of the seniors on the swim-team," she mumbles and pushes the buttons on her phone, "I think his name is Mark."

She doesn't even have to look at Rachel to know that her friend has rolled her eyes.

Instead she closes her phone, after sending another text to Lucas, and leans back into the seat. Rachel doesn't question why she had needed retail-therapy and she doesn't tell Rachel about Tyler showing up in the parking lot or about the yelling match she had with him and Nathan because she doesn't want Rachel going back to Owen with it and prove Nathan right.

All she wants is to get home and get ready for her date with Luke. It'll be the perfect remedy for her bad mood.

She knows that his beautiful blue eyes and that gentle smile of his will do what her impromptu shopping spree hadn't. Lucas will wipe the stupid fight she had with Nathan and Tyler out of her mind and replace her frown with a goofy grin.

She knows it because just thinking about him makes the butterflies in her stomach flutter.

"I think I love him," she mumbles half embarrassed to Rachel as they drive home from practice. "I have this feeling in my stomach…"

Maybe it's not the best moment to bring this up but all these emotions she's experiencing is actually something she _wants_ to share with the redhead. Rachel however just chuckles dryly and shift gears. "Don't be ridiculous, B." The redhead rolls her eyes. "You hardly _know_ the boy."

"Okay, _fine_. Then I _really, really_ like him," she snaps.

"You are so naïve," Rachel rolls eyes and continues driving.

"So it's only okay to love a boy if you've fucked him carelessly for over a year?" she counters and she's met with a second eye-roll and an annoyed sigh. It's apparent that Rachel is not up for this discussion at all.

"Whatever," the redhead shrugs and turns left in the crossing. "Just don't come crying to me when it blows up in your face."

What minutes ago had been a normal routine of driving home from school is suddenly a very tense car ride and Brooke huffs and stares out the passenger-side window.

Her fight with Nathan keeps looping in her mind and it makes her more on edge then she otherwise would be. He and Rachel were both insensitive asses. How could he be such an asshole to even say those things to her?

_I never once forgot what we were. A bunch of one night stands thrown together…_

She squares her shoulders and forces Nathan to the back of her mind. She's not going to need to run back crying to Rachel, because to Lucas she is _more_. She's more then a good fuck, more then a one night stand.

She his _girlfriend_.

"Believe me, Raye," she says with determination. "I won't."

Why? Well, mostly because she knows that Rachel thinks that love is for fools. She had kind of figured that her friend would have reevaluated that after staying with Owen for so long but its clear now that even though Rachel loves the quarterback, she's apparently uncomfortable admitting it.

And besides, it really doesn't matter because the friendship she shares with Rachel has never been about girly deep talks about emotions. Most of the 'sharing' between them happened in silence. Through body language and through the words that _weren't_ spoken out loud.

Usually this worked out fine for the both of them, but with all these new emotions running amok inside her, Brooke actually wishes that, for once, Rachel would let down the tough exterior and be okay with a little girly talk.

"You still think he's a loser," she half states, half questions while looking down at her crispy clean white sneakers.

"Yeah," Rachel mutters back and shrugs, "pretty much."

They don't talk for the rest of the drive.

---x---

_**February 1**__**st**_

"Brooke, wait up!" she calls after fourth period and jogs to catch up with the brunette. Her arm links with Brooke's in a way that used to be so normal and Brooke smiles.

"Hey P Sawyer. I didn't see you in algebra this morning. Oversleep again, huh?"

"Yeah, my alarm-clock broke," she shrugs with nonchalance but she smiles back and Brooke giggles.

"You're so lazy, Peyt."

Out of the two of them, Brooke has always been the morning person. The brunette usually bounced out of bed, unless she was hung over, and the many tardy mornings so far during Brooke's high school career had more to do with disinterest in studying than with a problem getting out of bed.

When they were younger, Brooke would skip into her house way too early and steal half her breakfast while yapping away so happily that not even her dad could hold off from laughing. Her cheery childhood BFF would claim that the early visits was due to the fact that the Sawyer family had tastier cereal, but even at ten or eleven years old, she had known that it was because the empty Davis house made Brooke sad.

And sadness was an emotion that Brooke very seldom allowed herself to indulge in.

All this was of course in the past. Because nowadays Brooke spent most mornings at the Gatina mansion.

"So where's the evil side of your persona?" Peyton asks casually as they walk towards the cafeteria and lunch. Brooke merely shrugs her shoulder and it's a little too nonchalant.

"She's took another mental health day to hang out with O yesterday," she mutters, "And I haven't seen her today but she's probably with Bevin in the cafeteria."

Peyton huffs before she can stop herself. She forces it into a fake cough to cover up the way she wants to chuckle and roll her eyes. Mental health day, her ass. Rachel is probably still at home fucking the brains out of that quarterback.

Although something in the brunette's posture tells Peyton that Brooke and Rachel might have had a little 'tiff' because Brooke _always_ knows where the redhead is and vice versa. Inwardly she's happy. It's hardly a secret that she's _not_ the redhead's biggest fan.

"And the momma's boy?" she smirks and bumps Brooke's hip with her own like when they were little kids.

The stiff expression on Brooke's face instantly shifts into a wide grin.

"He's waiting for me at the usual table."

The trademark wink, followed by Brooke's raspy laugh almost makes her gag.

Great, a whole hour of watching Brooke and Lucas suck face.

---x---

They're all gathered around the usual 'popular' table in the cafeteria. In February it's still a little too chilly to sit outside, but she wouldn't have minded. She bets that Lucas would've kept her warm. He always does.

Her boyfriend is sitting straddled over the bench and she rests against his chest. It still makes her all tingly to call him that – even in her head – but she loves the butterflies in her belly and she cherishes the way they flutter when he pulls her closer. He doesn't seem to care one bit that some of his teammates are sitting right at the very same table, or that Rachel teases him by making gagging sounds and calling them nauseatingly cute.

Actually he just seems proud.

Brooke smiles and snuggles into him. Runs her hand up and down his thigh while he nuzzles his nose into the base of her neck.

"You smell good," he breathes and she giggles when his breath tickles her skin.

"Yeah?" she teases, "You could use a shower."

He laughs and snatches a couple of french-fries from her plate. It feels good to be all cute and fluffy with a boy. The drunken hook-ups used to be fun in a way but those types of 'arrangements' never included the cuddling and the closeness. And she hadn't really known what she'd been missing out on.

Rachel and Bevin are talking on her left and their chatter is just adding on to the comfort she's feeling. Peyton sits on their right, sketching on some art like usual and Tim's trying to make a sandwich out of two chocolate chip cookies and Rachel's jell-o.

Things are settling down. Peyton hasn't thrown any bitch-fits for a couple of days, the guys on the team aren't throwing insults at Lucas every five minutes anymore and they're finally enjoying some peace and quiet.

"Oh! Brooke," Bevin bursts out, "Are you and Luke going to the party after the game tomorrow? You have to come. It's a _can't miss_!"

Inwardly Brooke sighs. Apparently she just spoke too soon. Apparently karma is out to get her ass and it just keeps throwing her curveballs.

She hesitates before answering the question and pretends to still be chewing her last bite. The last time she took Lucas to an event it didn't end well. Worse, it ended in disaster. And she's just about to offer some excuse for the both of them – even though she knows that she'll have to go to the Raven get-togethers soon since she after all is the Cheer Captain. She's pretty sure that her blonde boyfriend will be grateful if he doesn't have to go to a team event.

But Nathan chooses that exact moment to put his lunch tray down on the table right across from herself and Luke.

"Yeah how about it, _Brooke_," the dark haired Scott questions, voice brimming with challenge, "Will you grace us with your presence or what? It's been a while."

_Fuck_.

Less than a second later both Bevin and Theresa are forcing her down guilt-trip lane and her eyes are dark as she stares Nathan down. The encounter with him and Tyler yesterday is still fresh in her mind and she hates that he's making this into an open challenge.

It's as if he's throwing Tyler's words in her face just by looking at her.

…_Ever since you hooked up with that other Scott kid, you suddenly think you better than all of us. You're different._

And Nathan knows her well enough to _know_ that she can't back down from a challenge. Especially one that would mean showing her squad that he and Tyler were right. That she _has_ become boring.

But then she remembers Lucas. She remembers how he got treated at the banquet at Dan's house, and how Owen and the guys had shunned him at the Superbowl party. Raven games after-parties was a so called team-effort, which meant that everyone would be there – Nathan Scott included. With the way Lucas had gained more and more of his playtime recently, she just wasn't sure that Lucas would be safe around Nate.

"I–" she stars, deciding that she'd rather lose some popular-points with the girls than subject Lucas to that again. But she doesn't get to finish her sentence because Lucas pipes in, "Sure, _we_'ll be there."

From the ice in her boyfriend's tone she figures that the challenge in Nathan's voice hadn't passed unnoticed for him either, and when everyone else around the table looks to her for approval, she manages to force a smile and say, "Why wouldn't we come, Bevin? You heard the boy, see you there."

Bevin cheers and shouts "Go Ravens!" in a way that makes Rachel smack the back of her head.

Lucas laughs.

Nathan smirks.

And Brooke Davis just wonders what the fuck she's gotten herself into this time.

---x---

_**February 2**__**nd**_

It's the first time they're going to a party together as an 'official couple.' At least if one doesn't count the Super Bowl get-together at Owens frat house – which she doesn't.

And even if she did, this is the first Tree Hill party they're attending. The first one where she's supposed to act like a girlfriend in front of all of her peers and she's not exactly sure what's expected of her.

So she's nervous, but Lucas seems perfectly at ease. It's almost enough to calm her but she can't stop thinking about how Nathan is going to react once she walks through the door with Lucas. Last time hadn't exactly been pretty.

It's not that she doesn't want this. She does, that much is sure. When she looks at Lucas she feels her stomach flutter like it's full of gentle winged butterflies. She's not used to feelings such as these but she embraces it just the same. Even welcomes it.

Lucas rubs his hand up and down her thigh absentmindedly as he steers his truck down unfamiliar territory. She knows these old streets like the back of her hand but to Lucas they're foreign and fresh. Brooke slides her hand over his on her leg and closes her eyes to take in a deep breath of air into her lungs.

Suddenly she's at complete peace with everything.

When she opens her eyes Luke is looking right at her with a sincere twinkle in his warm blue eyes. Everything about him is a mystery to her. He doesn't play by the books and it's because he doesn't know _how_ to. She loves him for it because it means she doesn't have to play so many games.

"Hey you," she murmurs softly at a red light and leans across the seat to press her lips to his. She still can't get over how he makes her feel. Like she's the most beautiful person in the room, on the planet… in the universe.

"Hey, pretty girl."

His whispered reply makes her lips curve into a grin. His attention moves to her mouth and she licks her lips in anticipation and waits for him to close the gap between them.

When he does its bliss and it distracts them for so long that they miss the green light. Only when a car honks behind them do they realize they're about to miss a second green light. She giggles when he waves the car behind them by and tilts her chin up to look at him again.

"We don't really have to go to this thing, do we?" His voice is deep and rough and filled with desire.

She shakes her head and places her hands on either side of his face, "Nope." She grins and allows him to devour her whole.

---x---

Peyton's been watching the room for any sign of the golden couple and she keeps coming up empty. Rachel knows why she's looking and she finds it tremendously amusing. The blonde's jealously is so obvious it may as well be tattooed across her gaping forehead. But she knows something Peyton doesn't.

Brooke isn't coming and neither is Lucas.

She'd gotten the text not ten minutes ago. A vague message that made Rachel snicker.

_Don't wait up. ;)_

If there is one thing Rachel loves about her friendship with Brooke, its that they can say so much without saying much at all. Like a kindred spirit, one soul split into two bodies. Rachel is the jaded side of Brooke and she'll do anything in her power to keep her friend from becoming the deeply cynical person she herself became.

With Owen she feels softer – something she'd never willingly confess to either him or the rest of the world – but she still doesn't have much trust in humanity. And surprisingly – _thankfully_ – Brooke still does.

When she feels a strong presence behind her she doesn't turn around. It's either one of the two people and her first guess is Nathan. The latter would have to have a death wish in order to approach her. So it has to be Nathan and based on the way he refuses to speak first, she _knows _its him.

No one else is brave or arrogant enough to challenge her.

"You gonna tell me what you want or are you going to continue to breathe your hot ass breath down my neck." She sneers and sips from her cup.

He doesn't respond and Rachel's patience has never been very tolerant. She swallows what's left of her drink and tosses the cup onto the floor. It's been more than a little infected between them since she told him off at the Arcade, the night of hers and Brooke's double date, yet when she turns around, Nathan is leaning against the wall looking as if he hasn't a care in the world.

Rachel knows different.

"She's not coming." She tells him.

"Who's not coming?" He lifts a casual shoulder.

"Hmm," she smiles, "yeah, okay." She nods and rolls her eyes. He's not fooling anybody with the cool, calm and innocent act.

"Whatever." He mutters and pushes off the wall.

"Wait," her hand darts out to grab his shirt. He looks down at her hand on his shirt and then at her face. She lets go but only because she's moved to block his pathway altogether.

"Move," he barks.

She chuckles lightly, "_Please_." She rolls her eyes.

He tries to move around her but she stops him again.

"What the hell Rachel?" He scowls.

"Stay away from her." She warns him.

"Not a problem." He spits out disgusted.

According to what Tyler's told Owen, Nathan seems to be bouncing back from rejection just fine. Apparently he's enjoying himself immensely with Owens cute but somewhat childish teammate, hitting clubs and chasing girls. But when seeing his expression right now, Rachel doesn't believe it one bit.

Right now she's more prone to believe Owens jealousy theory.

She grabs onto his shirt again and shoves him back a step, "I mean it. Stay _away_ from her. She's happy." She tries to make her point clear.

"Bullshit," he scoffs, "when are we _ever_ happy?"

He's right and it makes her ill. The life of the rich and popular isn't what it's cracked up to be. For some its exactly what everyone would expect and for others its not. It's usually the ones who look as if they have it all that actually live the worst lives.

She hates him for calling her on it.

"Just drop it Nathan. She chose her Scott, and it's not you." She shrugs, it's just the facts. She can't help that he's the wasted goods of the family. "He makes her happy and that's all I need to know in order to keep you away from her."

"I could make her happy." He mutters under his breath resentfully.

"What was that?" Rachel grimaces in confusion and wishes the music wasn't so damn loud in the house.

He merely shakes his head and brushes past her.

"Remember what I said!" She shouts out at him.

He raises his middle finger in the air behind his head.

---x---

When she's around him she feels beautiful. He looks at her and it sets her cheeks aflame. He makes her blush and _n__o one _makes Brooke blush. He makes her laugh, he makes her smile, he makes her… _feel_. Without making it seem so damn scary.

"What are you thinking about?" he whispers into the dark.

They're tangled together in the crammed front seat of his old pick up truck. The windows are fogged and their bodies are sated. The steering wheel is two inches away from her nose and if she moves she'll bump her head on the door handle above her head. His long legs are bent at the knees, her feet are pressed against the passenger side door and she even occasionally plays with the lock with her toes.

"You." She smiles.

They barely fit across the orange leather seat and the gear shift is pressing into her hip but she could lay there forever. She giggles when he kisses the back of her neck and she pulls his arms around her tighter. His hands set fire to her skin. Even with the gentle way he always does it, it's as if everywhere they touch they scorch her all the way down to her core.

"How did I get so lucky?" He whispers in her ear.

She turns her face side ways and captures his lips. Then she twists around so that she can press herself into him. He groans and she moans and they kiss again. She wants to ask him what he's thinking. What he's feeling. How he sees her and where he sees this thing going between them. She has no idea what she's doing. She's never cared so much in her entire life.

And it scares her and thrills her all at the same time.

"Luke?" She speaks softly and pulls back from his lips to run trails of kisses down to his neck. He makes a sound that is more of a whimper in the back of his throat and she chuckles against his chin.

"Yeah?" he pants in reply.

"I love you." She says and they pause.

That is _not _what she meant to say. Dear god, what has she done? Fear gathers up in the pit of her stomach and forms a giant ball of anxiety. Any second now she's going to start to hyperventilate. She'll forget how to breathe and he will laugh in her face. How had she allowed this to happen?

He smiles and brushes his thumb over her chin to cup her face. "I love you too," he whispers, "_pretty girl_."

She almost cries her heart is so full.

---x---

_**February 3**__**rd**_

Not even the company of a college girl is enough to soothe whatever it is inside of him that won't stop ticking. It's like the second hand on a wall clock.

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick…_

"What is it?" Brenna pants from her straddled position over him. "What's wrong?" she asks him and proceeds to slide her hands over his naked chest as she moves against him slowly.

But it does nothing for him and suddenly it's as if his entire body shuts off and even though she's still moaning and grinding against him he feels absolutely… _nothing_. For a few seconds he lays there in a mild panic. What does this mean? It had worked last time, hadn't it?

"Are you even into this?" the girl above him snaps angrily.

"What?" he grimaces and looks up at her, "Of course I am. Why are you stopping? Keep going, I'm almost there," he lies through his teeth.

He's nowhere near _there._

The friction between the two of them should feel good, it was supposed to make him feel _better_. Not worse. She's a college girl for Gods sake, shouldn't she be able to get him off? Was it that difficult to be able to do something as seemingly simple as a pony ride?

He almost tells her to get off, no way is he going to be able to enjoy this moment now. How can he? Because when the thought has formed in his head, he just can't ignore it.

Brenna is merely a step up from Peyton and she's several flights of stairs _down _from Brooke. He hates that he compares his latest fuck buddies to that damn hazel eyed brunette. As if she's the best he could have? He knows that can't be true.

Tyler had set him up with a new girl practically every other night since last Wednesday and frankly, not one of them has been able to get him off for real, or helped to silence that unexplainable ticking he can sense in his mind. But Brenna is the easiest one to get into the sack and she doesn't ask questions when he calls her.

Owen would probably frown at this if he knew. Which he doesn't because Tyler has been sworn to secrecy. Owen would flip a bitch to know that Nathan was screwing different girls every other night. He has it in his head that Nathan is a good guy deep down and always expects him to do the right thing.

"_You remind me of me, Prep," _Owen is known to have said on occasion. _"The need to always be number one, your top-notch athletic abilities… even the way you carry yourself. As if you're the king and everyone else replaceable… But they're not, Preppy. And I hate to say it, but you're gonna learn that the hard way. Just like I did." _

Then again; after the other day at the Arcade, he hasn't talked to Owen. The guy had called him once but he didn't feel like picking up. He's chosen to hang out with Tyler instead. At least the linebacker didn't act all high and mighty on his ass.

"Oh, Nathan!" Brenna finally collapses over him and shudders against his chest as she cries out all sorts of colorful words. "Oh, God…"

He frowns and gently pushes her off his chest before reaching for his clothes.

"Did you…?" she pauses.

"Yeah," he nods, "yeah I did."

What a waste this was. He could have been doing something more productive. Maybe he should take Tyler up on his offer and hit up some strip clubs tonight. Maybe he should spend some much needed quality time with Tim and Vegas? Or maybe he should just redirect his frustration to the weights in the gym?

"You don't have to leave right now," Brenna attempts to seduce him back into bed, "we have the rest of the day…"

He snorts, "Nah, I'm good. One time was more than enough."

"What is _that _supposed to mean?" she snaps in offense.

"Take it however the hell you want to," he mutters and pulls his shirt on over his head. "I could really care less."

"You're an asshole," she scowls.

He smirks and heads for the door, "That's what they tell me."

Her face instantly scrunches up in a sour expression as if something smells bad and he sighs loudly. God, he's _so_ done with this girl. Pulling his sweater over his head, he walks over to the door and of course she follows. Couldn't she take a hint? He really needs another hook-up to replace her with.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" she demands and wraps the sheet around her naked body. "You're in high school Nathan! You should be damn happy that I even let you near me!"

He chuckles and reaches for the door-handle. "Yeah?" he throws back over his shoulder, "then maybe you should find yourself someone else to crawl all over, huh?" The door opens but he's too busy trying to block out her annoyingly shrill voice to notice the guy that comes down the dorm-corridor before he walks out.

"Preppy?" Owens surprised voice startles him and he stops dead in his tracks.

"Uh… Hey man."

Fuck. _Not_ good. He knows this as soon as he sees Owens raised eyebrow and he's not in the mood for another throw-down right now.

And of course Brenna has to walk all the way out into the hallway, naked as the day she was born – except for one very wrinkled sheet – and with a flushed face that just screams 'I've just been fucked thoroughly'.

He expects Owen to ask what he's doing in Duke's all-girl dorm corridor, but he guesses that it's pretty obvious by now. And he _could_ ask the quarterback the same thing. Because it's hardly 11 am and suddenly the tiny blonde from Super Bowl night appears behind Owen. The one who had been fighting with her boyfriend over the phone. What was her name? Elle?

"Oh jeez…" she huffs in annoyance, "It's _you_. I should have known."

"Huh?"

Nathan's feeling very confused. Behind him, there's an almost naked, very pissed off, girl that probably has the right to scold him off for being an insensitive asshole. And in front of him there's a guy, who he _thought_ would have his ass for this, but that merely looks smug.

And then _this_ girl – Elle – comes out of nowhere and rolls her eyes at him as if _he_ is the bane of her existence. What the hell? And what did she mean when saying that she should have known? Known what?

Owen silences Elle with a look and she rolls her eyes once more. Then she hikes up her duffle bag on her shoulder and mumbles a soft 'thank you' to the burly football player before walking around Nathan.

"Move Bren," she mutters and Nathan glances over his shoulder in time to see the blonde slip past the brunette into the dorm-room that he and Brenna had just been occupying. He blinks and the blows of confusion just keep coming. Elle is Brenna's _roommate_?

He looks back to Owen for confirmation but Owen just shoots off an evil smirk in Brenna's direction.

"Who's robbing the cradle now, huh Bren?" Owen questions her with a leer and a nonchalant shrug. "I thought you said you were a _real_ woman? I didn't know real women liked their men under-aged? Or is this your new flavor? Or did you just run out of boys your own age?"

Brenna curses Owen loudly and slams the door shut in both their faces. Nathan blinks back at Owen in confusion again – more than surprised at the turn things are taking – and that's when the older guy starts laughing. Hard.

"Wow, you should really see your face right now Preppy," he lets out while still laughing. "Good thinking, starting your fuck-around spree at Duke with our team-groupie. Didn't Tyler warn your ass?" Another loud chuckle erupts from Owen and Nathan shifts his weight from his left foot to his right when the taller guy almost cries out with laughter, "Damn man, that's cruel…"

"Uh…"

Okay, so Owen is obviously not mad. But that doesn't mean that _he's_ not. If Owen thinks that they're just gonna go back to being all chummy after the shit that the quarterback dumped on him last time, then the guy is seriously mistaking. So while Owen tries to pull himself together from his laughing-fit, Nathan pulls on a mask of indifference and starts to walk away.

He makes it exactly two steps down the hall before Owens hand grabs his shoulder and stops him.

"Hey Prep, where you going? I've tried calling you."

"Yeah?" He turns and smirks. "Guess I've been busy."

Owen looks at the door to Brenna's dorm room and raises his eyebrow sarcastically but then the older guy seems to change his mind and his face becomes more serious. Nathan's glad, because another lecture right now would probably lead to him clocking Owen right across the nose, and that would be a fight he'd be sure to lose. Owen isn't just taller, he's probably twice as strong.

"Listen, Nate. I know that you're pissed at me. But its not my fault that your deal with little B ended the way it did, kay?" Owen sighs and shrugs. "All I wanted was for you to stop making a fool of yourself in front of her and Rachel. I guess I could've been less of an asshole about it but if B wants to be with Lucas, then there's not much neither of us can do about it."

Nathan snorts and shrugs free of Owens hand.

"Whatever," he mutters. "I was done with Brooke anyway. If she wants romance and promises and shit, then she's better off with that loser. Our deal was just about the hook-up."

"You sure about that?"

Owen looks at him intently and he rolls his eyes. If Owen thinks that he's going to admit that the whole thing with Brooke had made him feel weird, then the guy's deluded. And if he thinks that he's going to admit to feeling betrayed by Owen? Ha! Never.

"Dude," Owen says and brings his hand back to where it had been. "Just because I had to hang out with your bro in order not to get killed by Raye it doesn't mean that he's my new pal. He's not that bad, but he's kind of a wimp."

A crooked smile forms on Owens face and Nathan feels ridiculous over the fact that it feels good to hear that.

"I could have told you that," he pouts like a grumpy kid, but he's not as pissed off anymore.

"So what do you say, Preppy? You're already here. You wanna come over to the house and hang out with the boys for a bit? I heard Tyler and Junior are gonna watch the Lakers game."

Nathan shrugs. Maybe he doesn't need to be so childish. Owen is kind of stuck in the middle of all this shit and just because he's not going to be banging Brooke anytime in the near future doesn't necessarily mean that he has to stop hanging out with O.

"Sure," he says and nods in the direction of Brenna's door. "Just keep that chick away from me. She's _damn_ clingy."

Owen slings his heavy arm over Nathan's shoulders and chuckles out something that sounds like "Don't we all know it…"

By the time they're walking the campus over to the Sigma Nu house, Nathan already feels better. The ticking in his mind is forgotten and he even laughs when Owen tells him about having to see PS. I Love You on that freaking double date.

He even forgets to question what Owen was doing in the girls dorm in the first place because he really doesn't care.

Owen is older. Owen is wiser.

And after all; O _was_ right when he said that he needed to stop being a whiny little bitch.

Being whiny isn't his style. He's Nathan Scott after all.

---x---

She sinks into the worn leather seat of Lucas' truck and hopes that he won't notice that she's blushing when he climbs into the drivers seat. It's just that as soon as she gets into the vehicle, she's reminded about last night and about those three little words that had left her mouth.

The ones that had earned her the same three words in response from the blonde boy next to her.

_I love you…_

She strokes the worn leather with the tips of her fingers and glances at Lucas from the corner of her eye. If Rachel knew, the redhead would tease her to no end. Which is why she won't tell her.

For the first time in almost a year, she has something that she doesn't want to share with her redheaded best friend. But that doesn't mean that she's not excited. Her stomach flutters gently as she watches him put the shift in gear and drive out from her driveway. And when he turns his head to look at her and he gives her that typical Scott-smile, she just turns to mush.

"I need to go home and get a clean t-shirt," he says and places a hand on her thigh. She can feel the warmth from him through the denim of her jeans and she looks back up at his face and smiles back.

"Sure, I can go over and hang out with Peyton for a while if you want to shower and stuff."

Maybe she could tell Peyton?

She's going to have to talk to _someone_ about the three words and about the butterflies that are threatening to take over her insides completely, and Peyton and her had shared so many secrets through the years. Peyton would understand how big this was for her,

wouldn't she?

Lucas' hand slides down to just above her knee and then it just rests there easily. For once she doesn't urge him to slide it back up higher again, because for once she's just content with being next to him in the moving car, comfortable silence between them and the loud humming of his old truck.

"If you wanna see Peyton, then you could," he says and turns the car left onto Burnette Drive. "But you can also come in with me. My mom is at the café and I promise to not take advantage of you."

She chuckles. She'd love it if he took advantage of her right now. But the more she thinks about it, the more she wants to talk to Peyton.

"It's fine," she smiles and leans in to kiss him as he pulls to a stop on the street outside his house. "I haven't talked to Peyt for real all week."

She can actually see the curly blonde. She's sitting on Lucas porch and she wonders why of course. It surprises her that her friend seems t0 be waiting for her boyfriend at 9am.

"Well, it looks like she read your mind," he shrugs smiling and she opens the door on the passenger side to jump out. She's about to mention to him that if that was the case, then the blonde would be sitting on her porch, not on his. But her thoughts are interrupted when Lucas is out of the car in seconds to lift her out as if she was a little girl.

"There you go, pretty girl," he says and puts her down on the sidewalk. A kiss, then another and when she finally pulls back from his lips, Peyton is standing right next to them.

"Well, well," she says and shoves her hands deep into the pockets of her leather jacket. "You're both up early." Peyton tilts her head and smiles pleasantly in a way Brooke hasn't seen the blonde smile in a long time.

"Yeah," she laughs back, "we didn't want to get caught by my parents. Apparently they're planning on coming home today."

Lucas laughs and intertwines his fingers with hers and Peyton joins in with a giggle.

"That would be embarrassing, I bet."

For a second they're all quiet because Lucas looks down at Brooke smiling and Brooke can't rip her away from his blue eyes. But then Peyton clears her throat and Brooke has to let the question slip.

"P. Sawyer, what are _you_ doing up so early?"

Peyton smirks and turns to Lucas.

"Yeah," she chuckles softly, "so… remember when you said you would look under my hood, Luke?" her tone is playful.

Brooke coughs and chokes at the question. _What the hell?_

It's a clear proposition. In broad daylight and she's standing right there with her hands shoved into her pockets and her posture leaning towards a boy who is not hers. Brooke's never been a jealous girl, really. But then again that was because she's never had a reason _to be _jealous.

But she does now, and Lucas looks totally unfazed.

"Sure, Peyton, no problem."

Casually, he strolls over the lawn between his house and Peyton's, pulling Brooke along with him by the hand. And when Brooke realizes that he's heading for Peyton's old Mercury Comet, her pulse slows back down to normal.

His hand is bigger than hers and when he squeezes it, she squeezes back. Then he throws her a wink that makes her heart flutter. She rolls her eyes and scolds herself for being so ridiculous as to actually believe that Peyton would openly suggest anything to Lucas in front of Brooke. Even if he _did _catch her 'innocent' flirting, he'd bypassed it so quickly it was as if it hadn't happened. She he loves him even more for that.

"Cool," Peyton says leading the way towards her car in the driveway, "you think you can get it to run by tomorrow? Not that I don't appreciate the rides to school or anything," she smirks, "but a girl needs her independence."

Brooke ignores the look in the blondes eyes as she says this and stares directly at her. In fact, she's sure she'd imagined it to begin with.

"Yeah," Lucas laughs and heads over to the front of the car, "I'll see what I can do."

"Of course he can do it," Brooke adds in her raspy tone, "and he's going to look good doing it too in a tight little wife beater," she saunters towards him to rub her hands over his chest from behind him, "maybe some grease smudges and a hot girl on the hood," she pulls back to hop up onto the hood and poses.

Lucas laughs and shakes his head at her, "I think that'd be more distracting than helpful, baby girl," he says to Brooke and pats her hip. "Hey, Peyt? Pop the hood?" he points to the car and takes his girl by the waist to lift her off the car.

"Okay, broody show us what you've got," she winks. "Hey, can we go for breakfast at your mom's café when you're finished?" she asks and he smiles as he lifts the hood of the car.

"Sure pretty girl, anything you want."

She beams at him and leans against the front of the car, watching him concentrate on the engine. "You too of course, P Sawyer," she says and winks to the girl on Lucas' other side.

Peyton just smirks and says, "Sure, I'd love to sit and watch you two stare into each other's eyes and breathe heavily during breakfast."

"Ha, ha," she sticks her tongue out.

"Hey, Peyton?" Lucas says with his head still stuck inside the engine, "You wouldn't happen to have a double open-end wrench or a ring spanner would you? Or maybe a…" he stops talking when he notices both girls staring at him as if he's just asked them the square root of a ridiculously long number.

"I'll be right back," he laughs and jogs off towards his own garage.

The moment he's out of earshot Brooke whirls around to face Peyton eagerly, "Want to hear a secret? I know you do," her grin is wide and dimpled.

Peyton sighs from boredom and looks at the brunette, "Brooke…" she groans.

"I'm falling for him," she blurts, "_big time_."

Her friend stares back at her without words and blinks twice.

"Speechless right?" Brooke laughs merrily excited, "I know, it's crazy but this is like L-O-V-E mad crushed out," she pressed her hands to her heart, "I'm in big trouble."

Peyton's mouth opens to reply but gets cut off by Lucas who rushes back towards them with a wrench held high in the air.

"Got it!" he shouts and goes right back to fixing the car.

Brooke smiles at how cute he is then turns to Peyton and looks for a reaction to the news she's just shared. This is monumental, because never in a million years has she ever even imagined herself admitting something like this.

"We'll talk more later," she whispers to her friend.

"Whatever," Peyton mutters and walks over to stand beside Lucas who's engrossed in whatever's under the hood.

Brooke gets that weird feeling again, like Peyton is somehow displeased with her. Then, like before, she flips it off and keeps smiling. This is just how Peyton is. She frowns, and puts on a cold façade with a nice side of sarcasm. But deep inside she's sure that Peyton is happy for her. They've been friends since forever. Why wouldn't she be?

It's not like she wants Lucas for herself…

Her eyes dart towards the blonde who leans over the car beside Lucas with eyes glued to the engine.

_Right?_

---x---

* * *

Thank you's are on the LJ, link in the profile. You all rock. Love / E & L


	20. Keep It Like A Secret

---x---

**Part 2:**_**Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 19: **_Keep It Like A Secret_

**Junior Year**

---x---

_**February 6**__**th**_

When the five-minute bell before fifth period rings, Brooke heaves a small sigh of relief. She's two hours away from freedom for the next three days. Thank goodness for Teacher's In-Service day next Monday, this three-day weekend is going to rock.

Her heels click against the hall floors loud enough to pierce through the roar of students who crowd around talking and laughing. She stops at the hall lockers and turns a purple painted dial a few times before honing in on the three lucky numbers. Then she jimmies the lever, steps back and slams the heel of her palm up beside the dial hard enough to make it unhinge from its lock.

_Voilà_.

"Breaking and entering," a voice chuckles behind her, "how badass."

Brooke rolls her eyes and turns with a playful smirk on her lips, "It's not technically a B & E if you know the person won't care."

Peyton smirks and slides her fingers down the open locker door, "Then why didn't Rachel give you her locker combo?"

"She did," Brooke laughs, "I just always forget it."

"You're such a dork," Peyton laughs and shakes her head.

Brooke giggles softly and pulls her a book from out Rachel's locker then slams it shut, "So where were you last night? I tried calling you, but you weren't answering."

"I dunno," her friend shrugs, "just out I guess."

"Peyton," Brooke pauses, "come on, it's me."

"And…?" she scoffs, "Chill, Davis. I wasn't with Lucas if that's what you're getting at."

"Excuse me?" the brunette blinks in confusion, "Peyton, that wasn't what I was trying to say at all." And it wasn't, because in fact she was with Lucas all last night so she knows for a fact that Peyton wasn't with him.

"Then what?" Peyton crosses her arms over her chest.

"It's just that lately when I call you, you're always busy. Where do you go, Peyt?"

"Geez, what's with all the third degree?" she snaps in response.

"I was just wondering. Gosh, Peyton, what the heck?" Brooke grimaces. "You've been—oh my God!" her eyes widen as her jaw drops and her hand rises up to point, "Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, is that a _hickey _on your neck?"

Peyton's mouth forms an _O_ and her hand flies up to slap over the side of her neck, "W-what?" she fakes a nervous laugh, "No!"

"Yes!" Brooke begs to differ as she yanks Peyton's hand down and moves in closer, "Damn, P," she scoffs, "who's the Vampire?"

"I burned myself," she mutters and pulls away to start walking down the hall.

"Umm, _nooo_," Brooke scurries down the hall to follow the curly blonde. "Peyton, stop!" she laughs, "Come on, spill!"

"There is nothing to spill," Peyton snaps, "big whoop, I got a hickey. Do you know the number of times Nathan's used my neck as a pacifier?" she snorts.

Suddenly the smile is wiped clean from Brooke's face, "You're back with Nathan?" she replies in a small voice.

Peyton searches her mind for possible ways to answer without actually answering. Because no, technically she is _not_ back with Nathan. He's been hanging out at Duke every free chance he gets. Not that she _wants _to get back together but using him right now would be such a perfect cover for the truth.

A commotion down the hall to her left shows Tim playfully wresting with Vegas and Nathan shaking his head as he shoves a few books into his locker. Their eyes lock and from the expression he wears she can tell he's hiding something of his own. Who gives a shit if she lies to Brooke. It's not like she hasn't done it a million times before.

"Not exactly," she sighs, "but then again, when have Nathan and I ever needed a reason to hook up?" she shrugs.

"Oh," Brooke mumbles softly.

"Yeah," Peyton nods and turns to start walking again, "so what were you calling to talk to me about last night?" she grabs the brunette's arm to pull her along towards class.

"I," her voice falters because for some reason the image of Nathan and Peyton wrapped around each other clouds her thoughts, "I, uh… I don't…"

"_Dude!_" Tim shouts angrily after being shoved into a locker, "That was foul, man!"

"Man up, Smith," Nathan's deep baritone grabs the two girls attention, "don't agree to a challenge you don't you won't win."

Peyton sighs and rolls her eyes at the ridiculous sight of a pouting Tim and her narcissistic quasi-ex-boyfriend. Brooke gulps and thinks back to the last time she even spoke to Nathan. Then she shakes her head to clear him from her mind altogether and tries to focus on walking to class when suddenly an arm slides around her shoulders and a tall and lean body slinks up between herself and Peyton.

"So," Lucas says sliding his other arm around Peyton, "how are the two most beautiful girls in Tree Hill doing today?"

"Great," Brooke forces a smile and accepts the small kiss he places against her lips.

"Oh, Luke, thanks for that CD you gave me the other day. That band is pretty awesome," Peyton replies. "They almost sound like Travis actually."

"Yeah," Lucas drops his arm from around her shoulder and points at her, "I was thinking the same thing. Hey have you heard the new song by…"

Brooke tunes them out because for one, she doesn't care—two, she has no idea what they're talking about—and three, Nathan is too busy pretending like he's not staring at them. She hates when people do that, and she hates it even more now because its Nathan who's doing it.

"Seriously, I don't see the point," Peyton's voice sneaks into her thoughts and brings her back to the present. "You're either in a band or you're not. Why would you sign with a band and then create another? It makes _no _sense whatsoever," she gripes.

"Hey now," Lucas cuts in and looks down at Brooke, "why are you frowning Ms. Cheery?" he tightens his arm around her shoulders as they near Nathan's locker and her stomach clenches. "Did you know," he says leaning down as if to tell her a secret, "that every time a pretty girl like you smiles, an angel gets their wings?"

Peyton nearly vomits right there in the middle of the school hallway. How cheesy can one get? But what she hates more is the insane jealousy she suddenly feels towards Brooke who melts at his words and giggles huskily. A chuckle catches her attention as she walks past the group of guys and its then that she locks eyes with Nathan.

He smirks at her then looks at Brooke and Lucas and shakes his head before he shoulders his backpack and slams his locker closed. Peyton hates the amused look he wears because it's so obvious he knows how utterly annoyed she must feel having to endure this torture. At least, that's what she _hopes _he's thinking.

But when he quickens his step to bypass them in the hall and leans in to utter into her ear, "Careful Peyt, your turning green."

"Fuck you," she scowls and storms off without informing Brooke or Lucas of her departure.

"I love you too, darling!" he shouts out after her, "Please be sure to smile so that those angels can fly back to heaven where you came from my love!" he adds in a dramatic gesture that instantly makes Brooke and Lucas halt in the hallway. "What?" he scoffs at the two of them, "you're not the only one who can woo the ladies, right Ashley?" he turns to the nearest cheerleader in the crowded hallway who giggles and blushes.

Lucas frowns in confusion and distaste and Brooke rolls her eyes at the insult.

Nathan looks the couple beside him up and down with a disgusted leer, "Wow," he laughs, "when did you get so… _boring_, Brooke?" he snorts at her before walking off to class.

---x---

For the past couple days Haley feels as if she's been living on autopilot. She moves from place to place in slow motion and never stops in her regular routines. Wake up, go to school, go to work, go home, do homework, sleep. Then she does it all over again.

Rinse and repeat.

Staring into her locker she sighs and tries her hardest to remember exactly what it was she came in here for. She has chemistry next class, so grabbing that book would probably be a good start. She reaches for it and when she pulls it out to shove it into her bag, she notices Jake in the corner of her eye down the hall at his own locker.

She also notices Lucas talking with Brooke and Peyton further down. Another deep sigh pushes past her lips and then she shuts her locker and makes her way over to the only friend she feels she can trust.

Jake.

"Um," she clears her throat to gain his attention, "…h-hey," she stammers at his back and curls a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Hey," he says still moving things around in his locker.

"Jake," she frowns and lifts a hand to touch him, "would you just look at me, please?"

"What, Haley?" Jake turns around to face her with a bored expression on his face.

She's taken back by the hostile presence he brings forth to her, no words come to her mouth so she remains quiet. Licking dry lips her eyes travel to the floor and her hand on her shoulder strap tightens as she lugs it higher towards her collarbone.

"I just wanted to say," she pauses to clear the frog from her throat and continues to stare down at her feet, "that I was, uh, you know… sorry for, um, the other day."

Finally, her eyes make their way back up to his face and when they lock gazes she exhales a long held breath and blinks a few times in silence. Her head tilts and the look she gives him makes him sigh and shut his locker closed.

"I'm sorry," she tells him again softly.

"I know you are," he nods and leans against his locker, "and I'm not mad at you," he explains and closes his eyes to take a deep breath. "I just got a lot going on right now and…"

"And…?" she prompts him to continue, "Jake, you can talk to me you know," her fingers reach out to touch his arm, "we're friends."

He gives a weak smile and nods, "Yeah."

"So talk to me," she shrugs.

He hesitates, now really isn't the time or place to talk about his indiscretions. Yet he still finds his mouth opening to tell her one of the many things that's been on his mind and when he does, fate steps in and stops him.

"_I love you too, darling!" _Nathan's voice booms down the hall just as Peyton Sawyer shoves past with a scowl so deep it makes Jake pull Haley out of her path.

"_Stupid son of a bitch thinks he knows me," _Peyton is heard mumbling under her breath just before Nathan shouts out to her again.

"_Please be sure to smile so that those angels can fly back to heaven where you came from my love!"_

Giggling follows his words and Jake looks down at Haley who is staring after Peyton's hasty exit. "Wow," she scoffs and turns to look at Jake who has a blank gaze that looks more lost than random, "you okay?"

"Fine," he's quick to reply and shake his head clear.

"You working at Karen's after school?" she asks him, "You haven't been around lately, I've been meaning to ask you if Jenny was sick or, or I don't know because you and I haven't really been on speaking terms," she shrugs.

"Jen is good," he smiles down at her, "I've just been… busy," he wipes a hand over his face and rubs his eyes, "I start my shifts back up at Karen's next week."

"Okay," Haley nods, "good," she pats his shoulder and stares up into his eyes, "if you're sure you're okay…"

Jake hates lying to people, especially when they're as innocent as Haley. But considering the circumstances, how can he tell her the truth? "I'm okay," he pats her hand on his shoulder, "I promise."

She seems unconvinced but he knows she won't press him further. So he stays there staring at her face and willing her to stop trying to read his facial expressions.

"Haley," Nathan's voice breaks their gazes apart and she whirls around to look at the dark haired Scott as he makes his way over. "Can we talk?" he asks her.

"I don't know Nathan, _can_ we?" she mutters with a bitter bite to her tone.

"What the hell does that mean?" Nathan grunts.

"It means," Jake cuts in, "that you've been blowing her off for the past couple weeks. So excuse her for being a little surprised that you've managed to find the time to talk to her after so long."

"Uh, I'm sorry," Nathan scoffs in disbelief, "I must have missed the memo that said you speak for Haley now."

"I'm just sick of watching you walk all over girls at this school," Jake snaps suddenly, his bag dropping down to the floor as he takes a step towards Nathan.

"Jake, stop," Haley grabs his arm to pull him back.

"Yeah, Jake," Nathan eyes Jake curiously, "_stop_."

"You stop too," Haley scowls at him.

"What the hell Jagielsky?" Nathan shakes his head, "Is there some sort of beef between us that I was unaware about?"

"Jake, please," Haley begs him, "just go to class. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

His fiery gaze slides away from Nathan and when his eyes move to Haley the tension in his shoulders eases up, "Yeah, okay." He shoots Nathan one last scowl before he takes his bag from Haley and starts to walk away. "Be careful," he leans down to say into her ear before he leaves.

"What the hell was that about?" Nathan watches Jake and asks Haley.

"Never mind that," she demands and sets a hand on her hip, "what do you want?"

Nathan softens and glances down at her, "I'm sorry," he starts out with an apology, "I know I've been MIA lately and—"

"_Sorry_ isn't going to cut it, Nathan," she shakes her head, "I've wasted enough of my time waiting for you come around and take this seriously. I'm done," she tells him firmly, "I refuse to allow myself to become just another person for you to use at your disposal."

"I don't use you," he says and rolls his eyes.

"Sure seems like it to me," she snaps.

"Haley," he groans, "I said I was sorry, what else do you want me to say?"

"Nothing," she scoffs, "don't say _anything_. Because I'm sick of your excuses and I'm through listening to your apologies. If you want a tutor, ask someone else. I'm done."

"You don't mean that," he replies in a gentle voice and takes a few steps closer until her back is pressed up against the lockers behind her.

She gulps, "Yes I do."

"No," he shakes his head slowly and stares down into her face, "you don't."

"What are you doing?" she whispers.

His fingers pull at the strings that tie her bright colored cardigan together, "Nothing," he mumbles, "why?" his eyes flick down to her lips, "Is there something you had in mind?"

"Stop trying to manipulate me," her voice trembles huskily.

The hall is nearly empty as the bell signaling the beginning of class rings above their heads like a fire alarm. It blares so loud she flinches beneath Nathan's intense gaze and tries pushes him away from her to leave.

"I need you," he says to her retreating back.

She pauses in her quick step and glances over her shoulder at him.

"I'll change," he starts towards her, "please, Haley, you're the only one who can help me. No one else understands my learning habits like you. My grades count on this tutor relationship to work." He reaches out to take her hand, "Please?" he begs again.

Her fingers in his hand try to pull away and he tightens his hold on them.

"Please?" he whispers.

Slowly she withdraws her fingers from his grip, "After school," she sighs, "bring your books."

"Thank you," his face lights up.

"Please don't make me regret this, Nathan," she replies seriously.

He nods and steps away to head off to class. She waits until he's out of the hall before she runs trembling fingers through her hair. She exhales a shaky breath and tries to convince herself that she's doing the right thing.

But deep down, she knows the truth.

---x---

_**February 7**__**th**_

Brooke's in her room packing another load of clothes into her duffel bag for another week at Rachel's house when he comes into her room. But she doesn't see him at first and continues to stuff her things away. Halfway through packing he finally clears his throat and Brooke whirls around with a gasp to see her dad leaning against her dresser.

"Daddy?" She blinks at him in confusion.

"Going somewhere?" He nods to the bag on her bed.

She snorts, "Seriously? I've been gone all week."

"So have I," he shoots back, "I'm only home for a few days and then I'm off to New York. Business stuff, nothing you need to worry about." He waves a flippant hand to brush the topic aside. "Your mother tells me you've been spending too much time at the Gatina house. She wants you here," he crosses his arms.

"Well too bad, I'm going to Rachel's." Brooke grabs her duffel bag and shoulders it, "Have a safe trip, daddy." She tries to breeze past him out her door but gets jerked back by her bag strap.

"I don't think so sweetheart," he shakes his head, "your grandmother is coming down for a few weeks. You need to be here."

Her shoulders slump, "I don't see why. All grams is gonna do is tell me how improper I am and then she'll chastise everything mom does until she gets so mad she starts to take it out on me."

"Be that as it may," Richard Davis sighs and rubs a tired hand over his face, "but your mother is going to need you, Brooke."

She thinks about all the things she was going to do with Lucas and frowns because now none of those things will happen. He'll have to find something else to do and someone else to do it with. And for some reason, that makes her nervous.

"I don't understand why I have to be there for her when she's _never _there for me," her tone is low and bitter.

"Because she's your mother, Brooke. Maybe seeing her interact with her mother this weekend will give you a sense of why she acts the way she does." He sets his hand on her shoulder gently. "I know you hate to be here alone sweetheart, and I'm not asking you to stay here when we're not here. All I ask is that you stay here until your grandmother goes back home. Then you can head on back to Rachel's if you want."

"But mom—"

"Let me deal with you mother when that times comes," he assures her with a nod.

Brooke tries not to protest any further and places her hand on top of her dads, "Alright then, thanks daddy." She whispers.

He gives her a small, tired smile and kisses her forehead. Then he looks as if he has something more to say but suddenly his blackberry buzzes and the pivotal moment is gone. His hand pulls out from under hers quickly and answers his phone just before he slips out the door without so much as a look back.

Brooke stands there in her room and awkwardly plays with her hands behind her back. Her eyes roam the four walls as if she's in a strangers home, because that's how it feels after staying with Rachel for so long. Downstairs the sound of the glasses clinks and silverware clanking tells her to start getting ready for dinner.

She flops down on her bed and grabs her phone to call and explain things to Rachel. Then she calls to cancel her plans with Lucas for the weekend. She can't shake that uneasy feeling in her stomach as she does so.

Because she's scared he might end up hanging out with Peyton.

---x---

Rachel walks around Owens room in her underwear carefully picking up the clothes that he had previously torn off in a fit of passion. She can hear him in the shower singing some stupid show tune and rolls her eyes. Sometimes she wonders how it is that they've lasted this long.

She hates that he never cleans his room, and that he collects various expensive looking liquor bottles. She hates the way he displays his football trophies in his room alongside said liquor bottles as of they both one and the same. She hates that he sings in the shower loud and obnoxiously. But what she hates more than _anything _inside the whole entire room of Owen filled chaos, is that right beside the bed, presently sitting there on his nightstand.

Is a picture of the two of them grinning like idiots towards the camera.

She hates it because every time she looks at it she smiles. And when she does that it's soon followed by a flutter in her stomach. Then after that she can't get the stupid feeling inside of her to go away and because of that she almost always starts to panic. But Rachel doesn't panic, she's supposed to always be in control.

So she gets angry instead.

It's not that hard, she's been using anger as a shield all her life, and she's already annoyed since Brooke called and cancelled their entire week. Something with her grandmother…

Owens deep baritone grows louder from inside the bathroom and it causes her to jump in surprise. Rachel grits her teeth and snatches up her jeans and throws all her clothes down onto the bed. He takes forever in that damn shower and she bets it's because of all those stupid songs he sings.

"You're using up all the hot water!" She shouts over her shoulder and kicks aside his shoes that are on the floor by his bed. _Freakin' aye_, this place is a pigsty.

"I told you to go in fiiiirst. You should have listened!" He teases her and starts to sing the _That 70's Show_ theme.

She groans and starts to pick up random objects from off the floor and puts down them in places she hopes they belong. She has time now that she doesn't have to rush home to Tree Hill. But then she stops and scowls at what she's doing, _what the hell? _When did she become his cleaning lady?

She hears the beginning verse of _The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air _and storms into the bathroom to flush the toilet. An evil grin spreads across her face when he suddenly shouts out curse words and jumps out of the shower with shampoo still in his hair. His body glistens with soap and water dripping down his ripped torso and Rachel feels a rush of desire burn down to her core.

"Oh! You dirty little minx!" He gasps at her and blinks to try and get the shampoo out of his eyes.

Rachel stands with her hands on her hips and plays innocent, "What?"

"You are so gonna get it," he narrows his eyes and takes one step forward.

"Don't you dare," Rachel backs up into the sink, "Owen Morello, don't you even think about it!" She shrieks and cringes up into herself as he comes closer.

"But baby," he smirks, "you don't wanna lose out on the rest of the hot water, do you?"

"Owen!" She warns and then screams when his arms circle around her waist and he pulls her into the shower.

The water against her skin is glorious and as she scowls at him she slides her soaked panties down her thighs. Owen watches her every move and she refuses to lose the stony look on her face. He unsnaps her bra and helps her out of it then slips up beside her and sticks his head in the showerhead to rinse his hair.

"If you wanted to shower together, Rach, all you had to do was ask." He flashes her a shit eating grin and hands her the soap.

"I hate you," she snatches it out of his hands.

He purses his lips and blows her a kiss, "No you don't."

And although it's against all her beliefs, it still amazes her how right he is.

---x---

She's sitting in front of her computer, webcam turned on and sketchbook on her lap. The drawing that is half-finished temporarily forgotten.

It's past midnight and she has given up. Lucas isn't going to come check on her tonight either. Her theatrical tears the other day hadn't made him come running the way she thought. It's been like a week and apparently she's not the great judge of character that she thought she was. _Apparently_, making out with her slutty friend is more important to him than her wellbeing.

She sighs and adds another black line to the drawing. The letters on the top are almost ironic and she snorts and throws the pad of papers aside. _And now we can have it…_

Maybe she should have kept the _can't_?

The IM signal sounds on her computer and she looks up with a facial expression so full of expectation that she almost cringes at her own stupidity when she realizes that she's wrong. Of course it's not who she hoped. Because Lucas is probably busy doing horizontal activities by now. Instead she's surprised to see another familiar screen-name.

_**Hotshot23:**__ You know he's not watching u, right?_

She knows what he means but she also knows that Nathan is watching her right now so she keeps her face cold and bored. Nonchalant and empty. He's not going to lure her into losing face like earlier in the school hallway.

_**PSawyer:**__ what r u talking about?_

_**Hotshot23:**__ Lucas isn't watching u._

Instantly she boils on the inside. The asshole. She hadn't thought that he'd have the guts to spell it out, maybe she had even for a second thought that he didn't know. But apparently her boyfriend is smarter than she gives him credit for. It's just funny how he never cares, never tries to understand her, but he can still see right through her on a thing like this…

Who the hell did he think he was?

Angrily she logs off IM and shuts off her webcam. She has to be less translucent from now on. Because somehow she senses that Nathan has a reason for letting her know that he knows. And in the back of her mind she knows that it's not only some kind of twisted boyfriend-jealousy. She might have tried to fool herself today in school but if Nathan was jealous, then he could've come over to try to 'mend' them for the millionth time.

Nathan is up to something else, she's just not sure what.

---x---

_**February 8**__**th**_

"Heads up!" Tim shouts out just before the back of Nathan's head gets hit with a basketball.

"_Son of a_—Tim! What the fuck man?!" Nathan leaps down from the bench and swoops up the ball to whirl back around and chuck it right into the face of his attacker.

Tim flies backwards from the force behind it and lands flat on his back. Nathan stands in the middle of the grass with wide panicked eyes and doesn't breathe until Tim moves again.

Then Tim groans and rolls over to his side to curl into a small fetal position, "Damn dude I think you broke one of my ribs." He grimaces and lightly begins to rub his chest.

"Well what the fuck are you doing throwing a basket ball at my head? You deserved what you got, don't dish it out if you can't handle it, _Dim_." Nathan rolls his eyes and leans down to sit on the blacktop beside his injured friend. "Come on, quit being a baby it wasn't that hard."

"Easy for you to say," Tim scowls, "you aren't the one with the wind knocked out of you." He grunts and lifts a hand into the air then takes a deep breath.

"Both arms dumbass," Nathan rolls his eyes and jerks Tim's arms into the air, ignoring the pain in Tim's yelp. "Deep breath," he mutters distracted.

"So you and Brooke, huh?" Tim replies through deep breaths.

Nathan drops Tim's hands to the ground, "What did you just say?"

He hasn't hung out with Tim much lately and more importantly; he hasn't hung out with Brooke at all. Other than the 'confrontation' in the parking lot with Tyler and the teasing yesterday in the hallway, hasn't seen her other than for a moment when the girls ended their cheer practice at the same time as the team came in to start theirs. There was just no freaking way that –

"The debutante ball, Nate. You and Brooke are going together, remember? It's been decided for months…" he shrugs.

"Oh," Nathan blinks trying to figure out what the hell Tim is talking about. Then he remembers, "_Ohh! _The _ball!_"

Tim grimaces, "You forgot?"

"Well it's not like I sit there and cross out the days on my calendar until this _grand _ball or whatever." He grunts.

Tim fidgets, "You don't?"

"You _do?_" He snorts.

"No!" Tim spits out a little too quick to be true.

For a second none of them say anything but then Tim sighs deeply. "If you were ever around, then maybe you wouldn't forget stuff like this," he mutters. "It's like the biggest event in junior year. Plus, me and Vegas haven't seen you in ages. What's so great about Duke?"

It actually sounds like the dude is hurt over this.

"Stop whining like a little bitch, Tim," he mutters back. "I get that enough from Peyton." He pushes himself off the blacktop and walks over to get the ball. "If it didn't sound so ridiculous I'd say that you're jealous because I'm hanging out with Owen and Tyler."

Tim sits up groaning and hangs his head.

"Well, it's no fun without you Nate. And Whitey is pissed that you're missing practice."

"It was one fucking time!"

He's not sure why he's snapping at Tim. It's not like any of it is Tim's fault. It's just easier to hang out up at the Duke campus than to be around his holy saint of a half-brother. Tree Hill sucks since Lucas crammed himself into _his_ spotlight.

"I'm sorry," Tim mumbles, "we just miss you man."

He picks up the ball and bounces it a couple of times. And instead of answering Tim's statement – because it gives him a guilty conscience – he shrugs.

"Aren't you bored?"

"Now?" Tim asks confused.

"In this town, _Dim_. There's nothing to do here and people are being lame. Even Brooke is…" he trails off and sighs.

They have hardly exchanged one civilized word during the past weeks. Ever since she blew him off and got all serious with Lucas they've only communicated through fighting, and now, having to endure cotillion with her is probably going to be hell on earth.

He wonders if she even remembers. Maybe she'll go with his bastard half brother instead and he'll get out of the whole dress up party all together? Honestly, it'd be a relief.

But then again, how awesome wouldn't it be to piss Lucas off be going with Brooke? The whole tutoring thing with Haley hasn't had the desired effect since he's been too busy screwing half of Duke to really wrap Lucas' geeky friend around his little finger. Taking Brooke to cotillion would probably get a better rise out of Lucas at this point than screwing with Haley James.

"Who are you going with?" he asks Tim to clear the tension in the air and he shoots the ball through the hoop without even looking. "Melissa, right?"

Tim smiles widely. "Yeah, and man, I think she likes me. I mean _likes_ me, likes me." Tim nods vigorously in excitement, "she said that if I don't step on her feet while we dance the cotillion dance she'll even stop calling me 'idiot'."

"That's great, dude," he mumbles in response only half listening to his friend. He's too busy planning out how to get the most out of this. Because when he thinks about it this evening could be awesome. Lucas was gonna be furious, and if he put on enough of his famous Scott charm, Brooke might even forget about her newfound love of fairytales, long enough to let him score.

It's been way too long since he slept with Brooke Davis.

Absentmindedly he pulls his sleeve up to read his watch, "I gotta go, Peyton's gonna kill me if I don't swing by her house gravel at her feet," he rolls his eyes. "We're do for a reunion."

"You guys are getting back together?"

"Yeah, I guess..."

Tim grunts, "What's up with you two anyways?" He grimaces and rubs a hand over his chest, "You guys have been avoiding each other way more than usual lately. She alright?" He squints up at Nathan, genuinely concerned. "Are _you_ alright?"

Again Nathan stops to think about Brooke.

He locks the ball under his arm and hangs his head, his foot kicks a pebble across the Rivercourt_._ "I dunno, man. A lot's changed lately. She's different, I'm different," he shrugs, "we're all just… going through some stuff."

"Ya'll is always going through stuff man." Tim turns serious, "You really love her, don't you?"

"What?" His head shoots up with a grimace on his face. "Who? Peyton?"

"No, Brooke," Tim smirks, "of course I mean _Peyton_. Who else man, unless you're banging some other chick—" he stops to gasp when he sees the weird look on Nathan's face, "you're banging another chick! Nate! How could you not tell me!" He flies up to his knees. "_That's_ why you're hanging out up at Duke so much, right?"

"You're so dense sometimes," Nathan smirks and shoves Tim back down to his butt and sits back beside him on the ground. Tim should only know how many chicks he's screwed just in the past week. If he's going to be back with Peyton, then all the college girls needs to stay under lock and key.

But that's not his only reason for wanting the whole 'you really love her' subject closed. Tim's innocent question makes him feel funny. As if his friend was closing in on stuff he himself doesn't want to dig around in.

Thankfully Tim has an attention span of a four year-old and just grins adoringly at the thought of Nathan hooking up with college girls. Loyal like always he just waits for Nathan to spill the details. And it feels good to be looked up to again - in the Sigma Nu House he always feels like the kid of the bunch - so he gives Tim some stories about Brenna, just so that the guy won't be bugging him all night with wanting to know.

And when it gets time to leave he has actually forgotten about going over to Peyton's. He has more important things to plan now anyway.

It's time for a new move on the chess board.

---x---

Haley hates that she cares so much.

But Lucas is her best friend and he's a good guy, so she's going to try and be happy for him.

She needs to for the sake of their friendship. She hardly sees him since he spends almost all his time with Brooke. But last night she had spent a couple of hours in his company and while they were getting a sugar high on his mom's hot chocolate with marshmallows, he had actually come right out and asked her to _try_.

Even if she thinks it's a huge mistake for him to be with Brooke. Even though the girl is an obvious upgrade from Peyton's 'screw the world' mentality, she's going to try. But that doesn't mean that she doesn't still have her doubts.

Like is she for real or is she playing a game? Haley's never trusted popular people, and that is all thanks in large part to her sister Taylor. She's seen what these people can do, how easy it was to wreck someone's life. Taylor told her stories that she never believed until she stepped foot onto campus at THH.

Which is exactly why she doesn't believe a single word out of Nathan's mouth whenever he speaks — regardless of whether or not she hangs onto his every word. She smiles politely when Brooke says hello and rolls her eyes when she walks away. She doesn't have to do anything when Rachel walks past, because to her Haley doesn't even exist.

Peyton is more of an enigma though.

Sometimes she acts as if she's swallowed some Prozac and behaves normally. She's nice and courteous and they even sometimes have a nice conversation here and there. But then the hypothetical meds wear off and the next day she can be met with a scowl rather then a hearty hello. The first time it happened, Haley was surprised and even a little hurt.

There was no second time, because Haley is a '_Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me_.' kind of girl.

Which is why she has her eyes especially trained on Brooke Davis. She can usually spot a liar from five miles away and whenever the cheer captain enters the Café, Haley's radar soars off the map. But Lucas is head over heels _stupid _for the girl and there isn't a damn thing she can do to stop it. What really sucks though is that Haley thinks Brooke is starting to fall for her own lie.

"Hey Hales," said girl in question grins over at Haley when she walks into the café that afternoon. "How are you?"

"It's _Haley_, not Hales and defiantly not _tutorgirl_." She snaps.

Brooke merely giggles at her innocently, "Haley, I don't say that to insult you. I always give people nicknames. I call Lucas _Broody _all the time." She shrugs.

And damn if the name doesn't fit him.

"Well," she huffs, "what do you want? I mean," she takes a deep breath and starts over, "can I help you with something?" _Insert fake smile here_, Haley thinks to herself but fails miserably to provide one.

"Nothing really, I just wanted to see Luke and I thought he'd be here. I wanted to see what his plans were for the weekend. I had to cancel our movie date and—"

"Oh, customer! Sorry Brooke, but I have to take care of this. Luke is on the roof." Haley replies quickly and rushes over to the cash register. So that's why Lucas suddenly had time to hang out last night? Go figure.

Brooke flashes a thankful smile in her direction and she feels bad because she knows she should give the brunette a chance. At least for the sake of her best friend. But it's hard to look at Brooke and not think that she's a mixture of Rachel and Peyton.

How can a girl with friends like _them_ be anything that Lucas needs in his life?

She sighs and returns to her work but just as she punches in the order of a tall cappuccino she spots Brooke in the corner of her eye. The brunette has stopped right at the foot of the stairs up to the roof and Haley watches intrigued as the girl straightens her clothes and fixes her hair in an almost nervous and insecure way.

Somewhere deep inside her something shifts.

What if it _isn't_ all lies and manipulation?

Because if a girl like Brooke – who's popular, rich and totally beautiful – is that nervous about seeing a raggedy ass boy like her best friend, then she must _really_ like him. Right?

For a second she turns her attention back to the customer and when she looks back over to the stairs, Brooke is already gone. A moment later there's raspy laughter coming from the roof and the makeshift miniature golf course there and Haley can't help but wonder if maybe Brooke's got it bad for Lucas as well.

Maybe Brooke actually _deserves_ a second chance?

---x---

_**February 9**__**th**_

The day is nearly halfway through when Peyton slides her cursor across the screen to exit out of her blog page and shuts down her computer. She presses pause on her iPod, pulls her earbuds out of her ears and heaves a sigh.

Where the hell was Nathan with his half-assed apology? They were far past due for a reunion. She used to be able to set her watch to the days and hours until Nathan would come groveling at her feet to take him back.

She can't do that anymore.

"_No, I got it Ma!" _Lucas' voice cuts into her thoughts.

Her eyes immediately dart towards her window and slowly she slips out from her computer chair to glance outside.

"_Okay then," _his mother shouts back, _"I'm going back to the café. Come by after you're done here and eat, okay?" _

Peyton watches Lucas drag a rake behind himself as he walks over to his mother to kiss her goodbye. She blinks in wonder when Karen throws her head back to laugh at something her son tells her and then she's off. Lucas watches his mother drive away all the while waving at her like an obedient child before he goes right back to his yard work.

She just doesn't get it. Why is Lucas such a damn goody, goody? And why does it not only intrigue Brooke but Peyton, herself, as well? Last year she could have cared less about the broody blonde.

Yes, they had many similarities and yes, the boy used to have a humungous crush on her. He's a good kisser, she thinks. From what she can remember from the Raven's charity dinner at the Scott's mansion a few months back, she thinks so. However, she had no interest in him then—at least, not like she does now.

What _does _she feel for Lucas Scott?

She's not sure. All she knows is that he's good company when she's lonely and he doesn't know enough about her to ask sensitive questions. The exception being her father, he asks about _him _all the time. But for once in her entire life… it's okay.

The decision is made before she even has time to process what she's doing when she's trotting downstairs and slipping out the front door to join Lucas in his yard. She pauses a few feet away from him just before the invisible line between property lots and shoves her hands into her pockets.

Suddenly she feels frumpy in her slim blue jeans, vintage rock band shirt beneath her trademark black leather jacket and matching low top Chucks. Her hair blows past her face in the wind and a hand reaches up to touch golden curls that make her frown because she wonders if perhaps her hair is too frizzy. Rolling a set of deep blue eyes she snorts to herself and laughs softly at how ridiculous she is being.

Who the fuck cares what she looks like? Lucas isn't her boyfriend, he's _Brooke's. _She smirks at that thought. He _could _have been hers, had she wanted him. Watching him struggle to shove inside a pile twice the size of the black Hefty bag in his free hand, she sighs and takes a step towards him.

"You know, that is just like a guy to shove something big into such a small space," her voice calls out and startles him to point where he drops his rake. "Relax," she chuckles and approaches him slowly, "I come in peace."

Lucas laughs nervously and picks the rake up again to fix his original pile of leaves, "Hey, Peyton," he greets her.

"You gotta _ease_ it in," she says taking the rake from his hands and moving in beside him to claim his pile of leaves. "Like a girl," she turns to wink at him, "nice and slow. But I'm sure you know all about that, right?" she teases.

His eyes widen at the sexual innuendo and he gulps, "Uhh…" he blubbers backing away from her.

"I'm fucking with you, Lucas! Geez, loosen up," she shouts and bends over to sweep the leaves into the bag. "You know, I saw you from up in my room," she continues, "and what I saw looked so sad I knew I had to come down here and show you how this yard business was done."

"Oh, really?" Lucas crosses his arms over his chest in challenge, "_You_ do yard work?"

"Damn right, I do yard work," she tells him and jumps back up to her feet with the bag, full, tied and ready to set aside. "Where…" she looks around for a spot to set the load.

"Oh," Lucas snaps back to attention and takes the bag away from her to put on the sidewalk. "Thanks," he nods.

"No problem," she smiles and wipes her hands on her backside then hands him his rake back. "Hey, remember when you tried to scare my dad with that thing?" she giggles into her hands and laughs louder when she sees his cheeks redden.

"I try not to ever think about that time," he wipes a hand over his embarrassed face, "that was…"

"Hilarious!" she shouts and slaps him on his shoulder. "Seriously, Lucas. I mean, thanks for looking out and all but, seriously? A _rake_?" she giggles some more. "Too cute."

Lucas blushes again and rolls his eyes.

"So where's Brooke?" Peyton finds herself asking out of reflex, rather than genuine interest.

The happiness bleeds dry in a matter of seconds. She watches his face fall and his eyes dart to the ground almost instantly afterwards. "She's uh," he clears his throat and absently moves his rake back and forth over the grass, "she's stuck doing some family thing.

"Bummer," Peyton responds, "I mean, she's totally missing out on all the fun!" she shouts and quickly scoops up a handful of leaves to toss into his face.

"Hey!" Lucas gasps, but the laugh and smile are hard to resist. Soon he's grabbing a bunch of leaves and smashing them into her hair.

Peyton shrieks and fights to free herself in order to grab her own ammo and retaliate. But Lucas beats her to the punch and grabs a hold of her wrist to pull her away from the mounds of red, yellow and orange leaves that crunch beneath their shoes. He shoots forward before she can and quickly throws a handful into her face.

Laughter fills the air as a shower of different colors cascade around them like a scene from a movie. For a moment she pauses to watch the tree pedals free fall from the sky and she wonders if perhaps it's not the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

"Whoa!" Lucas shouts just before she face plants right into the ground. "Oh, Peyton! Shit!" he yelps and lands just beside her. "I am so sorry!"

She gasps for the air that's been robbed from her lungs and rolls over to her back to stare up at the sky. "You…" she coughs and clutches her chest in pain then touches her face to remove the leaves that stick to her cheeks, "you said a bad word."

Breathless, Lucas turns to look at her and roars with laughter. "I just tripped and tackled you to the ground and all you have to say is—"

"Chill, Scott," she pats the side of his face, "it was an accident."

"Yes," he nods in agreement, "it was."

"Let's call it a draw," she says still laying on the floor and raises a hand to end their leaf-war.

"Deal," he shakes her hand and exhales a long breath just before collapsing down beside her on the ground. "For the record," he chuckles, "Brooke would rather drop dead than roll around in a pile of dirty leaves. So I don't think she's missing out on much being stuck at a dinner with her parents."

Peyton doesn't answer right away and instead stares up at the sky for a few beats before finally turning her face to stare at Lucas, "That's not true," she replies softly, "she's missing out on being with you," she pauses to scoot her body closer, "and that's something I know _I _wouldn't want to miss…"

He gulps and stares at her intensely, their faces are a mere two inches apart. _She's far too close_, he thinks to himself. _This isn't right_, another voice pipes in. He's not quite sure what it is exactly that he's doing wrong but something in his gut tells him that he should get up and away from Peyton as soon as possible.

Without another thought he jerks forward and sits up, "So, uh…" he clears his throat and moves to stand up then holds a hand out to help Peyton to her feet as well. "So, since you've completely massacred any progress I had made with this lawn, I think it's only right that you help me finish."

"Is that so?" Peyton smirks.

Lucas nods, "It's only fair," he adds a shrug.

She taps her chin, "Only if I get half of whatever your mom gives you for finishing the lawn."

He laughs, "Deal."

She nods and picks up a rake.

"Oh, but just so you know," he says moving to grab another rake, "the only thing my mom is giving me for the lawn is a meatloaf sandwich and a coke. So, I'll just have her slice it in half and put two straws in the cup."

"What!" she shrieks and chases him around the lawn.

He dodges her advances and laughs at her determination. He's so caught up in their fun that he almost misses the sound of his cell phone when it starts to play Robin Thicke's 'Lost Without You'.

_Brooke_.

He reaches into his back pocket and comes up empty. His eyes search the lawn in search of his phone. It must have fallen out sometime during their leaf fight. Then he notices Peyton bend over to retrieve it.

"Peyt!" he calls out to her, "Over here!" he hurries over.

But Peyton has an idea of her own, "What will you give me?" she tosses the phone from one hand to the other.

"Come on, Peyt. That's Brooke's ringtone!" he tries to take his phone back but she darts out of reach.

"_Lost Without You?_" she howls with laughter, "Seriously, Luke? How does a guy like yourself choose Robin Thicke's, Lost Without fucking _You_ as a ringtone?" she scoffs. "Are you musically retarded?"

"She's going to hang up and then she's gonna be pissed at me. Give it here, Peyton—stop it!" he tries again to nab his phone from her hands and fails.

"Just tell me one thing," she says with the still ringing phone held high above her head, "because I _know_ Brooke choose that song for herself. You're too clever to be so… _blah_. Anyways," she rolls her eyes, "what was your original choice ringtone for her?"

"What?" he asks distractedly staring at the phone.

"Come on, Luke," she wiggles the phone between her fingers, "between you and me, what was it?"

He sighs, "Peyton, I'm—"

The phone stops ringing.

He instantly deflates. _Shit_.

"Uh oh," Peyton mumbles guilty and brings the phone down to stare at it.

"_Hurricane_," he mutters, "by Something Corporate."

Her eyes search his face.

"And if it were me?" she whispers.

He grimaces and shakes his head confused, "What?"

The phone starts to ring again and he moves to take the phone. She doesn't move so he's sure she's done playing then suddenly she jerks it away and answers it, "Hellooooo?" she sings loudly and laughs playfully when he tries to snatch the phone away from her.

"This is Mr. Lucas Scott's phone, how may I assist you? Please do take into consideration that Mr. Scott is _very _busy today and cannot make anymore booty call appointments until next week. I think can try to pencil you in on, hmmm let me check…"

"Not funny, Peyton!" he shouts and laughs at the same time.

"P-Peyton?" Brooke's confused tone stutters out.

"B, you totally need to tell your broody boy here to loosen up. I swear he's so uptight I wonder if it's possible to remove the stick from out his ass." Peyton smirks and tosses Lucas his phone to go back to raking leaves.

---x---

"Brooke," her father calls from downstairs, "your grandmother is arriving. Come down and greet her."

She can still hear Peyton laugh in the background and she doesn't want to hang up. _Not now_.

"Five minutes dad," she calls back and tries to hear any background noises that can indicate where Lucas is. And maybe her blonde boyfriend is a mind reader because right then Lucas mumbles, "My mom stuck me with raking leaves, but Peyton's helping me out so maybe I'll be done in time to see you after your family thing?"

He sounds hopeful and when she hesitates, he adds in a soft tone, "_I miss you, pretty girl_."

She misses him more, she's almost sure of that, but she's _not_ exposing Lucas to the hell that is Victoria and Charlotte.

"I can't," she mutters sadly, just as Peyton shouts something about Lucas being a coward, making him chuckle. "I have to stay here for dinner. But maybe I can sneak into your room tonight? After your mom has gone to sleep?"

Lucas sighs, "I'd really rather see you without having to sneak—"

"Brooke Penelope Davis, get down here this _instant_!" her mom suddenly shrieks and she cringes at the sound.

"I really have to go," she says and she works her best to not sound pathetic and sad. Lucas wants her to be cheery and guys didn't want needy clingy girls.

"Was that your mom?" he asks in what sounds to Brooke like astonishment.

Suddenly Brooke feels her face flame with shame, "N-no," she lies, "that was, umm…"

"Where is my granddaughter?" another shrill voice calls out and makes the hairs on the back of Brooke's neck rise. "I want to see how beautiful she's gotten since my last visit—which by the way Victoria? Is _immensely _overdue and I do not appreciate having to be penciled into your schedule in order to see my family." Her grandmothers chastising voice makes it way up the stairs.

Slowly, Brooke creeps over to the stairway banister and glances down to see her mother's strained face. She'd give anything to be raking leaves with Lucas in that moment. She'd switch places with Peyton in an instant.

"_Brooke!_" Victoria shrieks.

"Lucas," Brooke groans, "I really have to go. But I promise you I'll call you as soon as I get away from these people."

"Brooke," Lucas laughs, "they're your _family_."

"There she is!" Charlotte Ann Montgomery cries, "Look who I found when I pulled up outside your house darling!" she grins evenly and pulls in a nervous looking Nathan Scott.

Brooke swears her heart comes to a complete stop.

"It's Nathan! Isn't he just the most handsome boy you've ever seen?" her grandmother coos delightfully running her hand along the side of his face. "It won't be long until the two of you are married," she winks up at Brooke and pinches Nathan's cheek, "oh I've predicted this union since you were just—"

"Grams, _please_," Brooke begs, "not today."

"What did I say? It's not like I'm making anything up," her grandmother bristles in offense, "you two are meant for each other. The only Davis daughter and the only Scott son, its only appropriate given your backgrounds. Anyways, Brooke what are you doing on the phone? That is terribly rude when you have guests."

Horror consumes her when she realizes she's still connected to Lucas and he's just heard everything that was said from out her grandmothers lips. She's just openly denied Lucas' existence in life.

"L-Luke?" Brooke stutters into her phone and scowls at Nathan when he snickers into a hand.

"I, uh," he clears his throat, "I'm just gonna go… I'll talk to you later or whatever."

"Lucas," Brooke chokes on his name, "are you okay?"

He takes a while to answer but when he does he sounds anything but what he says, "I'm fine, pretty girl," his fake enthusiasm is practically transparent. "Look, I got a lot to get done over here, so I'm gonna go."

"Okay," Brooke turns her back and ignores the people staring at her from downstairs, "I love you…"

"Yeah," Lucas mumbles, "love you uh," he coughs, "I love you too."

_Click_.

She stares down at her phone for a few beats before she closes it and makes her way downstairs. Something about that phone call makes her uneasy, but she knows Lucas can't possibly hold anything her bitchy grandmother says against her. _Right?_

By the time she steps down from the last step to join everyone she realizes that they've migrated to the living room. Well, everyone but Nathan who stands at the bottom on the stairs with his arms crossed and a look of sarcasm across his 'handsome' face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she snaps before he can say any snippy one liner.

He holds up a bottle wrapped delicately in a classy fashion, "Gift from my parents," he swings it back and forth slowly, "your grandmother always could appreciate a fine bottle of Cabernet."

"So you couldn't just leave it on the doorstep?" Brooke hisses and jerks the gift bag from out his hands. "Thank you, you can go now."

"You are far too hostile, B. What's the matter? Luke not hittin' it right?" he chuckles and steps towards her.

"How dare you," she pants and backs away until her back hits the stairway rail, "for your information, Lucas hits it _just right_."

Nathan laughs to himself in amusement and sets his arms on either side of her against the rail, trapping her where she stands. "Now you see, when you say things like that? I find it extremely hard to believe given the fact that you're still such a bitch."

"_Fuck you_," she hisses.

"See what I mean?" he smirks into her face.

Her grip tightens on the wrapped bottle in her hands, "Why aren't you at Duke fucking your way through college groupies?"

"I see you've managed to keep tabs on me," his eyes dart to Brooke's lips, "jealous?"

"No," she spits and presses the bottle into his chest, "back up, Nathan."

"Sure," he nods his head without breaking eye contact with her mouth, "I'm just curious though, B. How are you gonna break the news to the boyfriend about us?"

Brooke flinches and chokes on her words, "Are you _crazy?_ We agreed to _never_ tell anyone about—"

"Relax," he rolls his eyes, "I wasn't talking about that," he brings one hand down to trail a finger along her full lips.

A small gasp flees from her and he chuckles deeper from his throat, a husky sound that sends chills up and down her spine. She has no idea why she isn't screaming at him to stop touching her. After all the harsh words spoken between the two of them since that horrible Duke party, she still can't deny that a part of her misses him.

"What are you talking about then?" she whispers.

Her breath against his fingertips sends an electric shockwave of desire all the way from his chest to his dick. Instinctively he clenches his jaw and closes his eyes as he inhales a deep breath to calm himself. But the breath only brings her scent up his nose and into his bloodstream. A shiver erupts and he laughs at himself for being such a masochist.

"I'm talking about," he starts with his eyes still closed, "Cotil—"

"Brooke!" Her grandmother shouts from the living room, "What is taking so long? Nathan! I asked you to go and get her!" she adds in annoyance.

Brooke tries to slither away but gets pulled back and thrust up against Nathan's chest, the gift slips from her hands and hits the floor just as she gasps in surprise. The bottle unravels from out its fancy wrapping and rolls across the floor until it hits the wall and comes to a stop.

But neither Brooke nor Nathan pay much attention to the fallen bottle of wine.

"Stop," she struggles for breath and presses her hands to his chest to keep his mouth from crashing against hers, "_please_," she begs.

"Please because of Lucas or please because you want it?" he asks her and takes advantage of having her so close by gliding a hand down her side to enjoy her curves.

"Please," she speaks softly and touches his face with a hand, "because I asked you to," her thumb glides over his lips.

His hands drop from her hips and he steps away towards the door, "Tell your folks I had to go," he clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck without looking at her. "The bottle," he points to the forgotten wine, "it uh, it's…"

"I got it," she tells him.

"Yeah, okay," he nods and slips out the door.

Slumping against the railing at her back, Brooke covers her face with her hands and takes a deep breath.

What the fuck just happened?

---x---

* * *

Boys and girls, review and we'll get the next chapter up quicker. Oh, and btw; do any of _you_ guys have a secret? ;) We'd love to know.


	21. Everyone’s Right & No One Is Sorry

---x---

**Part 2:**_**Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 20: **_Everyone's Right & No One Is Sorry_

**Junior Year**

---x---

_**February 10**__**th**_

He has his '_we need to talk_' face and she avoids him because of it. She hasn't seen or spoken to Nathan since he was at her house last night. But now, as she walks towards the girls locker room for Saturday morning cheer practice, there he is.

The week had come to an end so quickly and with the arrival of her grandmother, Brooke can see her future clearly. It will be devoted to Brooke playing referee between her mother and grandmother, probably juggling phone calls in between with Rachel for moral support, and sneaking in quickies with Lucas to keep him from visiting her house.

All in all, the next two days will be bad enough even without Nathan getting weird all of a sudden.

His eyes catch hers in the doorway of the gym and there is no mistaking the slight jerk of his chin towards the empty hall to his left. No one will be in there, especially since its not a school day. She shakes her head and looks down at her feet and then back towards the girls locker room. Her hand clenches around her duffel bag strap on her shoulder and from corner of her eye she can still see Nathan staring. _Damn it_.

'_What?_' she glares and moves her lips to form the word.

'_Come. Here._' he mouths back and even goes as far as to point to the ground in front of him. '_Now_.' his tongue and lips move so deliberately there is no denying that he's being serious. He even goes as far as to walk into the empty hall and wait.

The gym is almost empty and the parking lot is vacant, she sighs in defeat. One quick sweep around lets her know that she's in the clear. If he hadn't looked so damn insistent and serious, she wouldn't have given him a second glance.

Her feet shuffle down the hall and the door to her right opens and suddenly Nathan pulls her in and shuts it behind her before locking it. She gulps and backs up until her back hits the shelves that line the walls.

"The eraser room?" she frowns.

"Look, you can calm down," Nathan scowls, "I'm not going to touch you."

"Good," she snaps. "Now what do you want."

He rolls his eyes, "Next weekend," he grimaces, "I just..." he pauses. "I need to know that you're okay with it."

"What about next weekend?" she scowls, "I'm fully aware of the fact that we will once again be at the same place at the same time. I'm over the drama, Nathan. I can be a civilized adult."

He sighs and nods his head. Of course she can, what was he thinking? Just because they would be paired together for Cotillion didn't indicate that it had to _mean_ anything. He could totally do this, especially if she was going to be so fucking nonchalant about it.

"Fine," he mutters and wipes a hand over his face, "I was just making sure. Because I don't feel like having to deal with the 'boyfriend' because of this."

Now it's Brooke's turn to roll her eyes, "I've already talked to Lucas about it, he understands."

"He does?" Nathan balks in complete disbelief. "_Really?_"

No fucking way, Nathan calls bullshit because there is no way in hell he would be _okay _with it if the roles were reversed. Nathan would never allow another guy to take his girl to anything, let alone a debutant ball.

"Why would he?" she snorts, "It's not that big of a deal, Nathan. I'd bring him if I was sure he wouldn't be eaten alive."

Nathan smirks, "If you brought him you'd be the laughing stock of the entire event."

Her eyes narrow, "And whose fault is that?"

"Not mine," he scoffs, "why are you looking at _me_ for? I'm not the snob, you know how they are, Brooke. You know them just as I do." He can't believe she's going to try and pin the blame on him for something he has no control over.

It's not _his _fault that Lucas was considered trash in the eyes of the wealthy people of Tree Hill. In fact, there was a part of Nathan that wondered if he himself was considered somewhat… _tainted. _After all, his father was the one to put his dick in a woman who—in Tree Hill's opinion—was the town joke. He can't help but feel bad for Karen sometimes, she was once just like them, until her parents disowned her for getting knocked up and left her behind.

"Oh, I know them," Brooke grunts, "and I still can't believe that you've somehow managed to gain their loyalty."

"Brooke," he rolls his eyes, "you don't make any sense. Are we cool for next weekend or not? Because if not then I really need to know now so that I can tell my parents."

"W-what?" Brooke stutters in complete shock, "Why the hell would you tell your parents about whether we were cool or not?" she snaps. "Why would they even _care?_ It's just a stupid game, Nathan. I'm only going because I promised both Owen and Tyler that I wouldn't miss another game."

"Wait," Nathan blinks down at her, "what are you talking about?"

"The game next weekend," her brow furrows, "Duke against North Carolina, _duh_. What the hell else would I be talking about? I told Lucas that I would watch the game with Rach, have one beer at the after party and then head home. I seriously doubt that you and I can't handle something as simple as that. You stay away from me, I'll stay away from you."

"No," he shakes his head completely confused, "no-no…" he snakes his fingers through his hair.

"What do you mean, _no_? Come on, Nathan, I know it'll be weird but at least I'm not bringing Lucas. I already made that mistake once and you've already staked your claim over Durham. I doubt anyone within 100 miles of that place would even allow Lucas to step foot on the ground." She snorts and shakes her head.

He stands there mute and she rolls her eyes annoyed.

"Are we done here? I really need to get to class and I don't feel like lying to Lucas about where I was," she frowns.

He hates that she genuinely seems to be telling the truth when she says this. She really doesn't want to lie to her boyfriend. He hates the way that makes him feel, because he doesn't know _what_ he feels. All he knows is that he's standing right there in front of her and he can't _touch_ her. His fingers tingle, just wanting to run through her russet strands of silky hair.

Brooke trembles beneath his gaze, unaware of the thoughts going through his mind. All she knows is that he looks both confused and torn. About what? She doesn't know and she doesn't _want _to know. But whatever it is, it has nothing to do with the game at Duke.

"You weren't talking about the game," she starts, "were you."

He shakes his head and looks away from her face, she almost reaches out to turn him back around. But she's too scared to touch him, especially since their last meeting at her house. She hates to admit how badly she had wanted to kiss him then, or how much she misses the taste of his mouth now as she stands two feet away.

"No," he gulps and closes his eyes, "I wasn't."

"Then what—"

"Never mind," he growls and backs up towards the door, "it doesn't matter."

"I don't believe you," Brooke moves and stops him by grabbing his arm, "what were you talking about, Nathan?"

Her fingers on his arm tighten, he grounds his teeth and fights to control the urge to press her up against the door and…

"Fuck it," he whispers and turns around to face her.

She gasps at the primal look in his eyes and instantly regrets coming into the room, "Nathan, don't," she says knowing exactly what he wants.

"Do you have any idea…" he shakes his head and stops his pursuit, "I have to go."

"Okay," she nods in agreement, afraid to say anything else that may break his resolve or even her own. She loves Lucas, she does. But being in the room with Nathan, the temptation is too great, especially when she knows how good it feels to be with Nathan.

"Don't follow me," he replies through a clenched jaw.

"I won't," her head moves side to side, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

He chuckles, "You really are clueless, aren't you?" he dares to glance back at her.

She frowns.

"I'm not gonna be the one to tell you," he opens the door, "see you next weekend, Brooke. Just remember," he pauses without turning to look at her, "it wasn't my choice. I didn't plan it and if I knew how to get out of it, I would."

Brooke's face twists in uncertainty, but she says nothing. The next thing she knows she's standing in the room alone with nothing but the faint scent of Nathan Scott's cologne. It takes a few seconds before she's able to breathe again and then the anger and confusion sets in. Without another thought she whips her cell phone out and texts Rachel.

_I dub thee cheer captain 4 today. _

Seven seconds later comes a pissed off reply: _Fuck u beezie, I will not be in charge of a bunch of whiney ass bitches on a Sat morn!_

_You have to, _she types back quickly, _I have family stuff to deal with. _

It's only a half-lie. She really does have family things to do, which was why she called a Saturday morning practice in the first place. She wanted to avoid brunch with her mother and mother's mother. But now that she's dodged the bullet anyways, she sees no harm, no foul. The girls need a little extra work on their dance routine.

_You owe me. _

Brooke smirks at her phone and walks over to her car, her thumb works quickly to press out a quick reply.

_Thanks, bitch. _

---x---

Usually Lucas spends his mornings seated next to a sexy brunette with a killer smile and amazing legs. He loves to hear the sweet sound of Brooke's raspy chuckle as he parades around his kitchen proudly making them breakfast. She loves to watch but she also helps him most of the time, too.

Lately, however, he eats alone.

Or at least that's the way its been ever since her parents came back into town. A part of him is somewhat hurt that she has yet to introduce him to them. He wants to know and be a part of every part of her life. Well, the parts that matter anyways.

Lucas isn't clingy, if Brooke needs space, all she needs to do is ask. He'd never smother her or make her feel as if he were dependant upon her. He loves her, yes. But there are times when he wonders if she feels the same way he does. Especially in times like these when she hides things from him. Namely, her family.

Is she ashamed of him? He frowns at this idea, and not because its ridiculous, but because it feels closer to the truth. Lucas is not rich, and he knows that doesn't bother Brooke. He doesn't wear expensive clothes or drive fancy cars, he doesn't live in a big house or have a house staff on the payroll. He cooks his own meals, he helps his mom out with the bills and sometimes he even works outside the café to earn a little extra cash.

He's responsible, he's intelligent, and he works hard. So why does it feel as if all of this means nothing when it comes to finding reasons why Brooke would hide their relationship. Unless it's the fact that Lucas is the bastard son of Dan Scott. A title that doesn't even compute in the mind of her grandmother.

_The only Davis daughter and the only Scott son, it's only appropriate given your backgrounds… _

Yes, he was still licking those wounds a week later. Haley has said not to worry about it when he'd told her. Which was odd to him because afterwards she had given him a smile and said that Brooke seemed to '_be in it for the long haul_.' He's not really sure what had brought that on but if his best friend was finally going to turn over a new leaf when it concerned Brooke, far be it for Lucas to complain.

"Are you still brooding back there?" Haley's voice carries in from the front of the café all the way into the back employee's longue.

"Luke!" Jake calls out, "Come give us a hand out here, will ya?"

Rolling his eyes, Lucas forces his limbs to push up from the old but comfy sofa and drag his feet out into the café. "What's up?" he feigns interest and sets his worn copy of The Great Gatsby down onto the counter.

"Your mom called, she's held up in Charlotte with your uncle. Sometimes about light fixtures? Anyways," Jake shakes his head to clear his thoughts, "Deb won't be around for another hour or so and I really need to get home before my parents take off for Charleston."

"So you need me to what? Take over the café?"

Jake bobs his head, "Just until Deb gets here. One of my cousins is getting married and at the last minute my parents decided to go. So now I have to take Jenny to a sitter since they wont be there to watch her and I can't be late to my second job again or else—"

"Jake," Haley sets a gentle hand down onto his shoulder, "we got you covered. Don't worry so much about it, it's unhealthy," she teases.

"Thanks," he pats her hand then takes off for the door.

"And you," Haley turns back to Lucas and steals a quick glance down at her watch, "Deb will be here in 20 minutes. I take it will take you that long to get to Brooke's house and assure yourself that the girl still loves you. But hurry back because my shift ends in 30 and I promised my mom I would go antiquing with her."

"Antiquing?" Lucas' brow furrows, "are you serious?" he chuckles.

"Shut up!" she smacks his arm, "It's fun. My mom can be quite the character when she starts wheeling and dealing. Anyways, would you just go? You're wasting time!"

A smile pulls up onto Luke's face for the first time all day, "Thanks, Hales," he says and presses a quick kiss to her forehead. "You're the best!" he calls on his way out the door.

---x---

She's the reason Brooke doesn't want Lucas coming to visit her. Not Victoria, who would usually be at the top of her 'stay away from Lucas' list. No, it's not her this time. It's Grand'Mere or Charlotte Ann Montgomery, for those who are blessed with no blood relation to the woman.

But against Brooke's wishes, Lucas insists on refusing. Rather than listen to her words he lends an ear to his heart. He's a romantic, she knows this but she wishes he could understand. Romantics of the world with warm eyes and tenders hearts have no place in the alternate universe Brooke has been brought up into. A place where most mother's are either a first wife, second wife, trophy wife, Stepford wife, or arm candy.

Brooke's not quite sure which category her mother falls in. One thing is for sure, she's _definitely _not arm candy. Seeing as how she has a perfectly well brought up education under her belt. But her achievements in the past definitely classify her as a Trophy wife. Sometimes her parents relationship seems more like a business agreement than an actual marriage.

When she hears the doorbell ring, Brooke rushes down the stairs so fast she nearly slides down the last tier on her ass. But she manages to sideswipe the housekeeper and nods her head for Gregory to walk away. He huffs and shakes his head at her in annoyance before he walks off into the back of the house. She watches him go and leans against the entrance. Inhaling a deep breath, she counts to five then finally unlocks the latch and opens the large red door.

"Hey," she tries for a smile and nearly lands it with a perfect ten but then catches sight of her grandmother's town car. "_Shit_," she curses and jerks Lucas into the house. "You have to hide," she replies in a panic.

"What?" Lucas responds confused.

She scans the house for an appropriate hideout and contemplates if he has enough time to go up to her room. Biting her lip she goes for it and drags him up the stairs just as the door opens and Charlotte enters the house.

"Goodness, I thought Victoria told the gardeners to park their trucks in the back driveway? Are they really that ignorant or are they trying to prove a point?" She scoffs in disgust and hands her driver her riding gloves. "I'll just be a bit, I want to see if Brooke wants to have lunch."

"Go, go!" Brooke shoves Lucas up the rest of the stairs and prays they haven't been spotted.

"Oh, there you are!" Her grandmother shouts, obviously spying Brooke but not seeing Lucas who stands just behind the wall next to her granddaughter. "I just came by to invite you to lunch, dear."

"Oh, w-where's mom?" Brooke smiles nervously.

"I left her at the tailors, her voice…" she winces and waves a hand in the air, "it's rather annoying, don't you think?"

Brooke can hardly contain herself, "Well then, umm…" her eyes dart to Lucas who shrugs and then back down at her grandmother, "I guess I—"

"Darling, tell me. Did your mother hire a new yard staff or does this one just have a tendency to park in the front drive?" She blinks long lashes and crosses her arms over a very well made Donna Karen button up blazer. "No matter, we can have that issue dealt with later," she waves a flippant hand.

Brooke's cheeks burn from embarrassment as she avoids looking over at Lucas. She shrugs her shoulders and gives a shaky laugh that does nothing but make her grandmother frown.

"So about the debutante ball, we need to discuss what you'll be wearing because the dress you mother had made for you is ridiculous and I will not have my granddaughter showcased in that hideous frock."

Brooke balks in astonishment, she'd completely forgotten about the Debutante's Cotillion. But the youngest Davis in the room does not need to walk down a few steps to know that she's a woman. Because she's possibly more mature than half the people that will be in attendance.

"Oh and I was _so _happy when your mother told me you would be going with the Scott son," Charlotte clasps her hands together happily and Luke's eyes widen as he stares at Brooke in shock.

No one has to explain to him that she means Nathan, because Lucas is _never _referred to as 'the Scott son.'

"Look grams," Brooke starts and begins to rub her stomach, "I'm not feeling very well so if you—"

"Wonderful! I'll wait for you in the car," she grins and turns back to the door that Gregory holds open for her.

"Luke…" Brooke covers her face in her hands, "I'm so sorry," she shakes her head and turns to him.

"It's fine," he forces a small smile and nods his head, "you go. I'll sneak out when I'm sure you're gone."

"Lucas," she reaches out to take his face in her hands, "I would have told you but I totally forgot about this stupid dance anyways!" she tries to make clear her intentions but he shakes his head and pulls her hands away from his face.

"It's fine," he nods his head.

But it's not fine, how could this ever be_ fine?_ Her boyfriend has just been insulted twice in under ten minutes and by her grandmother no less! Drastically searching his face she takes his hands into hers and clutches them to her chest. Silently begging him to forgive her for something she has no control over.

"Baby, please don't be mad." She almost cries.

"I'm not," he shakes his head, "I already told you, it's fine." His head nods once again.

The car horn outside honks loud and obnoxious and Lucas gives her a little push towards the door, "Go. I'll uh, I'll call you later. Okay?" He kisses her fingers and lets go.

She doesn't want him to let go, because she feels like if she walks out that door she could possibly lose him forever. _It's not my choice!_ She wants to scream in his face. But his fingers slide out from hers, gently prying himself away from her when she tries to pull him back into her hands. She swears it feels as if he slips away like a fistful of sand. Slowly sliding through the cracks between her fingers to form a pile on the floor at her feet.

If she only knew how much meaning this thought had. Because it's exactly how Lucas feels right now. Like a withering pile of trash at her feet, ones that are delicately inserted in heels that cost more than his entire outfit put together. The car honks again but she doesn't care and again he pushes her towards the door. Urges her to go even though he really wants to tell her to stay. Stay with him and be with _him_.

_Don't go_. He thinks.

"_Brooke Penelope Davis!_" Charlotte shrieks.

One last look in his eyes she flings herself at him and kisses him hard. It's as if she's trying to suck his soul or his heart out, so that she can store it away in her pocket. At least this way she can be sure when she comes back he'll still want her. Maybe she's not ready to descend those stairs, she thinks as she pulls away and hurries down to the car.

Because thinking she can hold onto Lucas is both foolish and completely naïve.

---x---

For Rachel, Saturday mornings are usually meant for sleeping in and waking up next to hunky boyfriends named Owen. But instead she's leading a squad of whiny cheerleaders in the place of their absent captain. She's going to kill Brooke the next time she sees her. Either that or the brunette is going to owe Rachel her life.

"Where did you say Brooke was again?" Theresa complains for the tenth time that morning. "Because no offense Rach, but Brooke moves slower so we can learn the moves." Bevin and the others nod their heads.

Rachel smirks and leans her hip against one of the tables in the lunch quad, "Yes well my ass is a lot smaller so excuse me if I move a little faster."

Peyton scoffs and shakes her head, "Then eat a damn hamburger because you're going way too fast Rachel. We didn't help Brooke come up with the choreography, so we don't know this routine like you do." She shrugs.

"Fine," Rachel mutters. She hates that Peyton is right, in fact she just hates Peyton period. "I will show you losers one more time—_in slow motion_," she adds with a sneer in Theresa's direction, "and then we will move on."

"Why can't Brooke show us? Where _is _she?" Ashley defies Rachel and stands with her hands on her hips.

"Oh my God," she covers her ears annoyed, "make it stop." Rachel mutters to herself under her breath.

"Just tell them and they'll shut up," Peyton rolls her eyes. "Look guys," she turns to the group of girls, "Brooke is busy getting laid right now so—"

"No she's not," Rachel cuts in disgusted, "you really think Brooke would ditch cheer practice for sex? With _Lucas _of all people? I bet the only move that boy's got is missionary and he's a minute man at that."

"How do _you _know all that?" Peyton teases.

"I don't, I'm just guessing." She sneers.

Goldilocks snickers, "You know what happens when you assume things, Gatina." Peyton winks.

"Yeah, you're an ass." Rachel snaps.

"Not exactly," Peyton replies unfazed. "But then again I didn't expect someone with your IQ to get that joke anyways."

"You know what, Sawyer? Bite me." Her face scowls in anger and then turns back to the squad, "Brooke is busy with family stuff."

Peyton grunts.

"You have something you wanna add?" Rachel snips, "Because you sound like you do. Care to enlighten us with yet another one of your useless insults? Because I can outwit you a lot better than you can with me sweet cheeks, and I didn't get any this morning so I'd watch out."

When the blonde remains silent, the stand-in cheer captain wears a victorious smug expression. It's immature and petty but she doesn't care.

"That's what I thought."

For the next hour they practice without complaint. Rachel is glad for this because otherwise she would have canceled practice and then Brooke would have had a bitch fit. Bevin doesn't break anything, Theresa doesn't trip and the rest of the girls seems to catch on pretty easy. They're moments away from a successful cheer practice when suddenly Peyton walks off in the middle of a routine.

"Excuse me," Rachel calls out, "but where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Chill, Elmo. I got it." Her blue eyes narrow as she digs into her bag for her cell phone.

"Keep practicing, I'll be right back." Rachel instructs the girls and walks off towards Peyton's kneeling form. "Look bitch, that attitude might fly by with Brooke but with _me _it's another story. Now get your ass—"

"Peyton!" someone shouts and Rachel's shocked to see Jake Jagielsky making his way over with a stroller.

"Thanks so much for this," he pants out of breath, "all her things are in the baby bag. You got my number, and I gotta go because I'm already super late. Thanks again Peyton, I owe you." He says and bends down to kiss his daughter quickly. "Hey, Rach." He nods his head before he jogs off the way he came.

"Need any help pulling that foot out of your mouth?" Peyton shrugs nonchalant as ever. She bends over the stroller to say hello to little darling Jenny J. and Rachel stands there speechless.

Three things are apparent.

_One_, when the hell did Peyton and Jake become friends? Let alone close enough to where he would willing trust her with his child? _Two_, what is Peyton's motive in all this? Because the bitch is more evil than Cruella DeVil and she far surpasses even Rachel. In retrospect, Rachel thinks that perhaps Peyton is trying to grow a heart. And what better way to start than with an infant who has no recollection of her devious past.

Then comes _three_, and Rachel's not quite familiar enough with this thought to be able to cast judgment. It's best to remain mum until she has more evidence to support her theory. So until then she pushes it into the back of her head to recall at a more later time.

"We done here? I have somewhere I need to be." Peyton mutters and shoulders her gym bag.

"So go," Rachel replies then turns and dismisses practice before she looks back at Peyton and frowns. "Have fun playing _mommy_."

Peyton rolls her eyes and pushes the stroller towards the parking lot. She grabs her phone and dials someone she's recently managed to attach herself to. With a side glance she can see that Rachel is still watching her. Arms crossed over her chest and feet planted firmly on the ground.

"Hey," Peyton smiles into her phone, "it's me. You got some free time for a friend? I promise to bring a girl who is just as if not more good looking as me." She teases.

Rachel rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She hates when Peyton plays games, having heard enough of whatever fake ass conversation she's having she grabs her things and leaves.

"Well, I'm not quite sure how my girlfriend would feel if I hung out with _two _hot girls." The voice on the other line chuckles. "I could possibly get away with one, but two might be pushing it."

Peyton loves how charming he is, "I won't tell if you don't." She replies huskily and pushes Jenny's cart up to her car.

"Tempting," he pretends to think about it.

"You don't know the half of it," she mutters under her breath. "Okay, so we're on our way. I just had to endure an hour of torturous cheer practice so forgive me if I look a bit frumpy."

"You couldn't be frumpy if you tried, Peyton." He laughs. "I'll be sure to have something ready for you when you guys get here," he assures her but he sounds weird. "By the way," he starts and she pauses with Jenny in mid-air, "have you talked to Brooke about this Cotillion thing? I hear she's going with Nathan."

She grunts as she sets Jenny into her car seat and straps her in. "Please don't tell me you're worried," she snorts again.

"I'm not," he replies confident, "at least not when it comes to Nathan. But her grandmother, she seems pretty harsh and Brooke has been so distant lately. I'm just curious if she's mentioned anything to you about… _stuff?_"

"Lucas, how many times do I have to tell you that when Brooke gets all stuck in her own little world she shuts everyone out? It's nothing personal, it's just who she is." She shrugs and starts to fold up the stroller to store in the trunk.

"Yeah but," he sighs, "I'm her boyfriend." He says this as if it's supposed to mean something.

Peyton almost laughs, he's so damn gullible.

"All the more reason to give her space, Luke. Trust me on this, okay? I'm her best friend and I've known her since forever." She smirks and shuts the trunk of her car. "Sometimes it's better to just leave Brooke alone. If she calls you, don't answer. If she tries to hang out, tell her your busy. Because the more you push her away the more time she has to sort out whatever it is she's dealing with."

"But whatever it is, I want to be able to help with it." Lucas explains. "I can't make her feel like she's alone with her problems, Peyton. That's not who I am."

She rests her forehead on her steering wheel and counts to five. The guys is so damn hopeless sometimes. Why can't he just accept the bullshit she's feeding with like everyone else does? Why does he _always _need a damn rationalization?

"You know Lucas, not everything is about who _you _are. Sometimes it's about who the other person is. And Brooke likes her independence," she lies because she has to, "the sooner you accept that. The more solid your relationship will become."

Lucas chews on this piece of information for a few seconds then swallows the bait. "Alright," he sighs, "I guess you know her better than I do. I'll turn my phone off and just wait it out, I guess."

"Great," Peyton grins triumphant, "and until she's back to normal, I'll be right there to help you through it."

"Thanks Peyton. You're a great friend," Lucas tells her, "we're all lucky to have you around."

She rolls her eyes at the sappy words but bites her tongue from saying how she really feels. "No problem L. Scott," she replies just a few blocks down the road from Karen's Café, "that's what friends are for."

She wonders how Jake would feel if he knew what Peyton was doing with his daughter in the backseat. Would he be angry? Regretful? Would he hate her for involuntarily corrupting his only daughter? She's too young to understand but a small part of Peyton wonders if that's in fact true.

Because after all, Peyton had to have learned this evil shit from her own mother at some early point in her life.

---x---

"Is something wrong dear? You haven't touched your food." Brooke's grandmother sets her glass of chardonnay down and stares across the table at her silent granddaughter.

Brooke merely shrugs in response.

"And sense when are you so quiet?" Her brow rises, "Brooke… tell me what's wrong."

Her mouth opens and even though her head is screaming at her to shut it, she doesn't. Perhaps against her better judgment. "Well, for one I think you're a complete bitch and I hate you because you've passed your bitchiness down to _my _mother who will pass it down to me. It's a never ending cycle and if I could end it, I would. But since I don't really feel like dying right, now? I guess I'll have to just figure out alternatives."

Brooke takes another deep breath and continues, "Also, I want you to apologize to my boyfriend for being… well, _you_. I don't want to do this _stupid _cotillion and mostly it's because I don't want to be around Nathan Scott. Why? Well, let's see maybe it's because whenever I'm within five feet of him all I want to do is rip his clothes off and lick my way down his six pack. But I have a boyfriend, one that I _love_. I honestly love him grams, but because I grew up in this family? I don't think I know _how_ to love. So, I'm scared that it's not going to work out."

She reaches across the table, downs her grandmother's glass and slams it back down with a loud belch. "Boy that felt good," she grins, "I really feel a lot better. Thanks grams!"

_Silence…_

Charlotte sighs and shakes her head, "Well if you're not going to tell me what's wrong," she shrugs disappointed.

Brooke blinks several times and realizes she's imagined her entire speech. She reaches for her glass of water and gulps it down. When she finishes she has to clench her fingers in order to keep from grabbing her grandmother's glass of wine.

She's in a love story. She is Juliet and Lucas is her Romeo. Star crossed lovers torn apart by two different worlds and feuding families… well, feuding because his family is absent one father and makes about three times _less _than hers.

"I'm fine," she lies, "what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Your dress," her grandmother dives right in, "It's just arrived this week. I was meaning to tell you beforehand that I had it custom made ages ago just for this occasion." She pats her granddaughter's hand daintily. Then she lifts her arm up by the wrist and sighs, "We're going to have to alter it some," she frowns, "I thought you'd be smaller…"

Juliet fakes a smile and sets her hands down into her lap.

---x---

_**February 11**__**th**_

"Hey, Preppy!" Owen shouts in surprise and jogs over from his group of friends on the football field. "What are you doing here, man?" They slap hands.

"Oh, yeah uh the guys at the house said you were here, so…" Nathan shoves his hands into his pockets, "do you uh… you got a minute?"

Owens brow wrinkles with concern, "You alright?"

Nathan shrugs and lifts his head to face the large quarterback, "Just when you have time. You look like you're busy playing ball with these guys so…"

"Nate," Owen rests his hand on the boys shoulder, "shut up."

Nathan nods and Owen turns his head and yells at the group of players out on the field that he'll get them next game. Then they trudge over to the stadium bleachers and climb about half way up until Owen finally stops and sits down. Nathan joins him and sets his hands on his knees, thinking about how to explain his problem when Owen asks him again what's wrong.

"Out with it, bro," he slaps Nathan on the back, "better out than in, man. That shit can kill you." He nods.

A grunt from the basketball star and then a frown, "Shit's getting complicated." He hesitates. "I had this perfect plan how to fuck Lucas over once and for all and now, just when things are finally going _my_ way, I develop a fucking conscience!"

The older and taller football player looks confused and he scratches his chin. "What kinda plan? Is this like when you guys tried to haze Luke off the team? Because that was a pretty stupid plan…"

Nathan snorts. "Well he deserved it. The loser just doesn't understand what's good for him."

"So what was the plan then?"

The noise from the practice game down on the field sneaks up to them and Nathan clears his throat. Now when he has to say it out loud it sounds ridiculous. Getting Brooke drunk at cotillion and seducing her to sleep with him had seemed like a genius move, especially when taken into consideration that Lucas was gonna be furious that he didn't get to take his girlfriend to the debutant ball and instead Lucas would have to see her get dolled up to go with the brother that he hated.

But there's a fucking hole in his master plan, one that as of today feels as big as the Bermuda triangle.

"I figured out how to break him and Brooke up," he grumbles and kicks a forgotten soda can down a couple of steps on the bleachers. "But now it doesn't matter. Because I think that Brooke might actually be crushing on him." He looks up at the quarterback again. "You know? Really _like_ him."

Owen purses his lips and leans back on the bleachers without responding. It unnerves Nathan who is about to crawl out of his skin. It's bad enough he's said it out loud, but now Owen is looking at him as if he expects him to spill his soul. Not gonna happen. The closest he'll get to confession time is silent ominous glares and minimal animal grunts when asked certain questions.

Details have never been Nate's thing.

"There's this… _Cotillion _thing or whatever," he shrugs without looking over at Owen who is sure to be watching him closely, "and we have to go together. It's been like this since we were kids. We always get paired up together at these stupid things." He sighs and runs a hand over his face.

"_Why do I have to hold her hand for, huh Dad?" _

"_Nathan, one of these days you're going to start liking girls. When that happens you're gonna be pretty damn excited to hold Brooke's hand." _

He hates to say that his father is right. However, he's not sure what he hates more. The fact that his _father_ is always so damn on the ball right, or the fact that even as a child he knew then what he knows now. That holding her hand isn't so bad, even though he has to pretend like she makes his skin crawl in disgust rather than lust.

"It's gonna drive Lucas up a wall when he finds out," he confesses to Owen, "And I was planning on letting him know today at practice because apparently Brooke forgot all about the stupid thing…" He sighs and scratches the back of his neck. "It was perfect, man. He'd tell Brooke not to go, she'd go crazy when he tried to boss her around." He chuckles dryly, "I mean, she's _Brooke_ – she _hates_ being told what to do. So she'd get pissed off, come take it out on me and –"

When he trails off – because he realizes too late how extremely desperate that last part would sound – Owen actually smirks.

"And you've missed her," the older guy fills in the silent gap.

"What? _No_!"

A loud string of curses floats up from the football field and Nathan shadows his face from the sun with his hand. Tyler's out there, repeatedly getting run down by Charles, and Owen frowns and stands up.

"Brent!" he booms down to the players. "What the fuck, dude! Cover Ty's ass for Christ sake!"

Nathan watches while Owen straightens out the extra practice and he feels slightly jealous over the way that the players listen to Owens commands. Since Lucas joined the team, practices for the Ravens have been weird.

Finally Owen settles back down. "I'm sorry, Prep," he mutters, "Tyler's driving me mad. You both need to lay off the partying for a while, I can't have him hung over at another practice."

"Who are you?" Nathan snorts back automatically, too high-strung to stop himself, "Tyler's dad?"

By now Owen watches him coldly. His voice is low but firm when he replies.

"No, but then again… Who the fuck are _you_? Am I talking to Nate or to Tyler? Because there's something seriously wrong with your attitude lately. What's your deal with Ty anyways? You two are hitting it up as if it's the last weekend before the apocalypse."

Nathan deflates visibly and hangs his head.

"Tyler's just… helping me pass some time," he sighs. "I didn't want to hang around in Tree Hill, just watching Lucas ruin everything so he took it upon himself to entertain me."

Owen nods at this and shrugs. "Okay, so I get that you don't like it that Lucas has stepped in and ruined your little 'arrangement' with B. But seriously, Prep? Wasn't that deal kind of over even before that? The dude is your _half-brother_, maybe you could get along if you tried?"

"You're kidding right?" Nathan scoffs but Owen keeps pressing.

"No, I'm not. You know that you've got the skills to beat him on the court, and you have twice the popularity he's got even when you're not even trying." The quarterback stretches out his long legs in front of him and hides a smirk. "The only reason I can see to why you hate him so much is because he snatched Brooke right out from under your nose."

Owens theory is so ridiculous that Nathan chuckles but apparently Owen doesn't find it very funny.

"Come on," Owen sounds almost disappointed, "I heard about the little 'lovers-quarrel' that you and Brooke had the other day and I've gotta say –" he throws his hands out as if underlining his words, "For someone who sees her as nothing more than '_a chain of one-nightstands thrown together_', you're being awfully competitive over Brooke."

Owens brow rises sarcastically, "I mean since you don't like _sloppy seconds_, or what was it?"

Nathan can smell the reversed psychology crap from miles away.

"Yeah right, whatever," he mutters and acts like he doesn't even dwell a second on what Owen said. But in reality, he does.

All his life his father has taught him to be the best. To be the better player, the better manipulator, the better... everything. _Especially_ when it came to Lucas. So growing up, all that Nathan had seen when he saw Lucas was competition. All he heard in his head was "to be the better Scott".

Maybe _that_ is why feels like such a slap in the face that Brooke blew him off and turned to Lucas?

"Maybe you should try to make up your mind," Owen suggests, "Because right now, you're just acting like a sore loser."

For a second, Nathan actually has to ponder the possibility that the older guy is right.

"I don't know what the hell's wrong with me," he grunts. "Maybe I need to get laid or something because I'm acting like a little bitch."

Now Owen actually laughs.

"So Brenna didn't do it for you, Prep? You got an itch that only Brookie can scratch?"

"Shut up."

The response comes out so quick and snappy that Nathan almost feels embarrassed. Owen should only know how close to the truth that is. He _is_ itching to get horizontal with Brooke Davis. So why isn't he using the ammunition that she so nicely has given him?

In a weak attempt to try and explain to Owen how bad this issue with his newfound conscience is, he uses the other failed plan as an example. "You know the tutor? Lucas' little hick-friend Haley that I told you about? I made sure I'd get assigned to her just so that I could piss off Luke and now I can't even meet up with her." By now Nathan even laughs at himself. "I've stood her up three times in a row because I feel like a complete asshole for using her like that. What the hell's up with that, huh O? I'm telling you, there's something _wrong_ with me!"

"And you think that breaking up Brooke and Lucas would fix all this?" Owen asks slowly as if he's really trying to understand.

Nathan scoffs, "I wish," he shakes his head. "I don't know, I just want things to go back to the way they were."

"Back to before you and Brooke started the whole ridiculous benefit-arrangement?"

"No," Nathan scowls out at the field, "back to before _Lucas _came into my life and ruined everything."

Rolling his eyes at the younger boy, Owen can't help but think that Nathan is being self-centered. "You're going about this all wrong, Nate," he sighs and slaps his hands down on his knees. "There's nothing _wrong_ with you. Having a conscience is a good thing, Preppy. But you've _gotta_ understand that Lucas is not the one ruining things. It's not Luke you want to deal with, it's _you _man. _You_ are the only one in the way of what you want."

"But what the fuck _do_ I want?" Nathan whispers more to himself than to the guy beside him in the stands.

"I don't know, Preppy," Owen pats his friend on the back, "that's something for you to decide. And I can't help you with that. "

Nathan hides his face in his hands and takes a deep breath, "Yeah," he lifts his head, slides his hands down his face and looks up at the sky, "I know, man. But can't it just be enough of a reason that he's an asshole? I just don't want to have to see her with him. I don't like him!"

"You've gotten _that_ point across," Owen chuckles dryly but then he turns serious. "It's pretty clear that you don't want them together. But for what price though, Nathan? You willing to ruin her happiness for something you're not even sure about? You'd be ruining her relationship just to get back at Lucas, that's what you're saying, right?"

"I…" he closes his mouth. He has no answer.

He's never thought about it like this before. Is that the reason or is he willing to break them up just because he wants her all to himself? Does he _really _want her or does he just want what he believes to be his? Like two children in a sandbox he and Lucas sit and fight over the same shovel.

And it's not Brooke's fault that she's caught in the middle. Because truthfully; Nathan's still staring up at that sky above his head wondering…

Why the _fuck _can't he just follow his own plan? What _does_ he want and why does it even matter to him if Brooke has some infantile crush on his bastard of a half-brother?

Apparently Owen gets tired of waiting for his answer because the quarterback stands up and stretches before he grunts out, "Let me know when you decide. Because until then I'm gonna make God damn sure you stay away from little B." Nathan blinks and watches Owen descend down the silver aluminum stands.

"Wh–, what?" he asks completely stunned. But Owen is already halfway down to the field, his hand sliding into his back pocket to pull out his cell and send a warning text to his girlfriend.

And all Nathan can do is sigh, completely oblivious to Owens traitorous actions. As of late he's trying his hardest not to stare at Brooke when they're in the same room or not to grab her when she passes him in the hallways in school.

He certainly tried his damn hardest yesterday in the eraser room just to not assault her mouth with his own.

But _stay away?_

He couldn't do that even if he _tried_.

---x---

_Nearly every chemical reaction takes place in homogeneous mixtures called solutions. Therefore, we must understand the properties of solutions before we can even begin to understand those reactions. _

Her finger pauses over the last sentence, _before we can even begin to understand those reactions._ Haley wishes she could understand why the hell she's still sitting there at the river walk with school books and study guides and no one beside her ready to learn.

She should have known he wouldn't show. It was _Sunday _for goodness sakes, she still cant believe this was _his _idea. A sigh through her nose gives way to a yawn and her sluggish posture over the Chemistry book makes her head tilt forward further.

_Perhaps the most salient characteristic of a solution is its concentration—how much solute is dissolved in what amount of solvent. _

She snorts at how ridiculously tired she must be because the sentences are starting to make more and more sense. But not in the way she's used to the words giving knowledge. No, this time they're guiding her towards a solution of her own. A reaction from standing at the ledge of the last straw.

The significant solution to the focus of her current problem is simple. Yes, her resolve has been defiant in the case of her never backing down to a challenge. But she can't sit there alone at the wooden table alongside the river and pretend as if she is there by force rather than by choice.

She _chose_ to allow him to sucker her back into this arrangement. She _chose_ to ignore the ringing bells and the screaming whistles warning her to stay away from Nathan Scott. She's not stupid, he has an ulterior motive. She's almost sure of it. He did not chose her as his tutor out of desperation or convenience

He chose her to make Lucas mad.

_Several different units of concentration like mass percent, mole fraction, molarity, normality, and molality have been developed for use in different situations. _

Chemistry is her life. Lucas is Nathan's main unit of concentration, but the ultimate solution cannot be made possible without the key components. The several different units. _Peyton. Brooke. Haley_—hell, even _Rachel._

She's not sure what Nathan's main goal is, but she knows that whatever it was a few months ago is _not _what it is now. He's changed, for the better or worse she is not sure. All she knows is that there is something different about Nathan. He used to tease her and make her blush. Call her names and playfully sneak a touch to her arm, her hands, her face…

His intentions have changed. It's what she'd hoped for when they started this whole arrangement. She still hopes for it. Maybe not for the storybook happy ending where they fall in love and ride off into the sunset, but she _does_ hope for his redemption. She wants to help him see the error of his ways and fight for a better life. Or at the very least, be his shoulder to lean on. The voice of reason, the ear that his words fall on.

But again, she's not stupid. She can tell reality from fantasy and compared to the girls Nathan's been known to be with… she doesn't measure up. She's heard the rumors about Duke recently. Nathan talks about Tyler sometimes when he actually shows up to tutoring sessions, she's even seen Tyler once in the parking lot.

But what role do all these people in Nathan's life play? What purpose do they serve because Nathan is a planner, just like Haley. He doesn't do things without a desired outcome. Even though they don't talk now as much as they did a few weeks or months ago, she knows there is still that tiny shred of the old Nathan in there.

He's always hated Lucas, but for Haley he keeps his comments mostly to himself. That shows progress, maturity. But his constant ditching of classes, practices and tutor sessions… that shows a definite sign of trouble.

Peyton has been extra moody around campus. The looks Rachel shoots in his direction are hard to ignore. Brooke's been focused a lot on things at home, leaving Lucas to whine to Haley and Nathan to smirk at his obvious discomfort.

Owen, Rachel's boyfriend and the guy Nathan looks up to, constantly keeps tabs on Nathan. She only knows this because of the times she's heard Nathan complain about it. Then there's Tyler, the guy Nathan cuts loose with and forgets about the consequences.

All these people in his life, all these… _elements_ swirling together in one stirring pot.

_Solution Composition explains the definitions and uses of those units and why it is necessary to have so many different units of concentration._

Her eyes glances down at her watch, 45 minutes late. He's not coming. She reads one more line in her book and then gives up on Nathan for the day.

There's always tomorrow.

---x---

"So look, we got trouble," Rachel starts when she walks into the room and falls backwards onto Brooke's bed later that day. "Hey, is that your dress?" She sits up suddenly interested.

"It will be," Brooke says and approaches the mannequin, "once I'm done de-frigid-bitching it." She scoffs and rips the sleeves clean off the gown.

Rachel's eyes widen and she cracks a smile, "Good shit, can I watch?" She rolls over to her stomach and swings her feet behind her.

"Even better," Brooke tosses the ripped material at the red heads face, "you can help." She grins and hands the girl a picture.

"What's this?" Rachel looks down at what looks like a sketch of a pretty amazing dress. "Did you do this?" She asks while admiring the design.

"Yeah well, boys isn't the only thing I'm good at." She winks and flashes a dimpled smile.

"B!" Rachel gasps and sits up on the mattress, "This is really good. Since when did you develop a talent in anything other than being a slut?"

Brooke laughs softly, "Well seeing as how you are way better at being a slut than I am…" she shrugs, "I needed to find another angle."

She smiles, "So how do you plan to transform this," Rachel points at the 18th century looking ensemble, "into _this_." She points at the sketch. "Without getting caught?"

"Easy," Brooke giggles and sits on the bed beside the girl who she regards as so much more than a best friend, "I'm riding with some of the girls to the Debutante Cotillion, we're going to get ready in the room upstairs." She snorts into a hand. "How stupid is my mom and grandmother?"

Rachel nudges the brunette and winks and when Brooke sighs she pauses and stares at her. "What's wrong?"

"Well," Brooke's frown deepens, "I just don't see how you got out of this. It's not fair!" She huffs and pouts into herself.

"Well, for one? My parents could really give a shit seeing as how they haven't been home in almost a year. Plus I wouldn't be caught dead descending a staircase in something that looked like _that_." She grimaces at the dress in front of them.

"Would you take Owen," Brooke starts, "you know, if you were going? Would you take Owen or would you just settle for one of the 'acceptable' dates?"

"Oh boy," Rachel sighs and pulls Brooke down onto the bed so that they lay facing each other, "spill."

"_Chartoria_ hates Lucas."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"Did they say anything? When the hell did they even meet him?"

Brooke sighs so deep that her chest heaves.

"They haven't, but I overheard them ripping a new one into one of the other Debutantes because of who she has down as her date."

"Problem..." Rachel rolls her hand to get Brooke to continue.

"Bevin is bringing Skills, Raye."

Rachel's eyes widen, "You're shitting me!" She slaps Brooke's arm.

"Hey, watch it!" She scowls and rubs her welting skin, "Can we please focus here? They were trashing Skills left and right Rachel! Can you imagine how uncomfortable Skills is going to be at that Ball?"

Maybe its stupid to worry about a guy – a friend of Lucas' – that she hardly even knows, but just the thought of how people are going to treat Skills makes Brooke even more certain that bringing Lucas would be a big mistake. A huge one.

Not only will he be ripped to shreds and scrutinized by her mom and grandmother, he'll also see way too much of her shallow and cynical world.

"I don't think he's going to care too much," Rachel snorts and reaches out too touch the fabric of the torn sleeve that Brooke has thrown on the bed. "Everyone knows Bevin puts out on the first date."

"So not the point," Brooke smacks the red head. "Raye, I'm being serious. I'm really worried about my relationship with Lucas." She tells Rachel about what happened just the day before. How her grandmother had mistaken his truck for the yard staff. "And then she went and spilled the beans about Nathan being my date!" She shouts exasperated.

And that's when Rachel remembers the reason she was even there. _Shit. _

"B, I need to talk to you about that." She frowns and sits up in the bed. "Owen told me something today."

"What?" Brooke flies upward.

"I don't know if I should tell you though," she licks her lips nervously, "I don't want it to change how you feel about… _people_."

"Raye, just spit it out. If you don't tell me I'll just make Owen do it." She rolls her eyes.

"I hate how you're able to work anything out of him just like that. I have to beg and beg and even then it's a 50/50 chance." Rachel huffs jealously.

Brooke rolls her eyes, "Oh boy, the green eyed monster rears its ugly head." She mutters under her breath.

"Shut up," Rachel spits and her tone is spiteful, "don't change the subject."

"Correction Skank, formerly known as _Slut_. But you were actually the one who changed the subject." Arms crossed, she narrows her gaze. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing," Rachel feigns innocence, "it's not even all that important really. Owen told me something or another about someone trying to sabotage Cotillion with a bucket of pigs blood and I was li—"

"Rachel_._"

"I'm serious!" She gasps, "Owen has a very reliable source and—"

"_Rachel!_"

"Nathan wants to break you and Lucas up because he's jealous." She blurts out.

Brooke's mouth drops open, "What?"

"Owen told me not to tell you until he got to the bottom of things," she sighs, "but I've drawn my own conclusions and this is what I've come up with."

"Well your deducing _sucks!_"

"Don't get mad at me just because I don't sugar coat the truth for you. That's Owen's job, he's the one who knows how to make shitty outcomes sound not so bad. I just tell it like it is." She shakes her head. "So forgive me, but you're screwed. At least now you don't have to worry about if you and Luke are gonna work out. Because now you know." She grins.

"I know what," Brooke dead pans.

"That it's not." She shrugs and stands up from the bed. "So where do you wanna start?" She lifts the sash from the dress and drapes it across her chest.

But Brooke isn't listening anymore. The design is forgotten and she bites her lip, trying to decide if she should tell Rachel about the _other_ thing that worries her. She's not sure if she should because she's pretty sure that she's just being paranoid and if she spills to Raye, then the redhead might agree and that would just make it worse.

Nathan might want to ruin what she has with Lucas, but as she glances at the ugly dress and thinks about what the cotillion is supposed to mean – the introduction to womanhood – she feels confident that she can withstand the temptation that he symbolizes.

What she can't be sure of though, is what Peyton is up to.

A shiver travels up her spine and she lets her eyes travel back to Rachel.

And she decides. She _has_ to spill.

"Raye," she mumbles, "Do you think that Peyton wants to break me and Lucas up as well?"

Rachel's eyes grow wide and there are a couple of minutes of silence before the redhead bursts out laughing.

"Aw, come on B!" she gets out between the laughter. "Don't be ridiculous. Peyton is the bride of Satan and Lucas is a total momma's boy. You're the only one interested in dating that wimp."

Well, when Rachel puts it like _that_…

"Thanks Raye," she giggles, suddenly feeling like a huge weight has been lifted off her chest. "I don't know why I'm freakin' out. Maybe because I've hardly had time to be with him the last couple of days and they have so much in common…"

"Don't worry about it, B" Rachel chuckles, still pulling herself together. And then the redhead grabs the sketch off the bed and goes back to comparing it to the dress.

She does it so that Brooke won't see when her smile turns into a frown.

Sure, Lucas is so in love with Brooke that its sickening, but even though she's sure that Peyton would fail even if she tried to ruin things between Brooke and the blonde Scott-brother, it doesn't mean that she's sure that the bitch won't try.

And with everything that Brooke has on her plate at the moment, Rachel _really_ doesn't want Brooke to know that.

---x---

Not five months ago, Lucas was walking these same streets to this same destination, but with a different girl on his mind. However, no matter how weird it is to think about, he can't imagine thinking about anyone else but Brooke now. He just wishes she'd stop pushing him away, because it's starting to take its toll. Even Peyton's advice is starting to sound more and more appealing.

Maybe Brooke _does_ need just a little taste of her own medicine.

_Swish_.

He hears the sound of an orange Spaulding sliding through a chain net and then the inevitable bounce against a blacktop. Someone's at the Rivercourt—_his_ Rivercourt to be exact. Sneakers scraping cement furthers his interest as he quickens his steps towards the park.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Lucas finds the words flying out of his mouth before he can even comprehend what he's saying.

Nathan ignores the question and continues to dribble the ball. He shuffles side to side on the court then rears his arms back for a three pointer.

_Swish_.

"Hey!" Lucas snaps out louder, "Hey, I'm talking to you!" his feet move faster to bring him closer to the darker haired Scott. Seeing him play so naturally, without effort, on _his _court no less, makes something inside Lucas snap.

"Hey, asshole! Quit ignoring me!"

Nathan continues to play as if Lucas doesn't exist. A trait he's sure Brooke's grandmother plays very well. Then without warning the past few days comes crashing own all around him and Lucas darts out to steal the basketball. After doing so, a stunned Nathan watches as the blonde brooder dribbles it to the basket then jumps up into the air to complete a flawless layup.

Both boys allow the ball to bounce out of bounds, neither moving to follow it and neither looking away from each other. Eyes locked, jaws tightened and set, both seem as if they are itching for a fight. One without purpose or meaning, just a simple stress reliever.

Then Nathan edges his half-brother on, "Impressive," he snorts, "too bad moves like that don't help you when it comes to game time."

"Do you have a reason for being here?" Lucas scowls.

"It's a free country," Nathan shrugs careless.

"This isn't your side of town," the other growls.

"You don't say?" he snorts.

"You don't belong here," Lucas persists.

"Funny you should say that," Nathan lifts a finger into the air then starts to slowly circle the other boy on the blacktop, "because I was starting to think the same thing."

"Excuse me?" Lucas turns around to follow his brother's gaze.

"I'm just saying," Nathan reaches out for the forgotten basketball and shoots for the hoop. When it goes in, he smirks arrogantly and allows the other boy to catch the rebound. "Your shot," he challenges.

Lucas doesn't take the bait, "Why are you here? What do you want Nathan?"

"What do _you_ want, man?" Nathan snaps suddenly and charges forward to get within a few feet of Lucas. "You think you're hot shit, but you're not. The only reason you're even in the spotlight right now is because I stepped out of it. Enjoy it while you can, asshole. Your days are numbered."

"I don't even know what you're talking about," Lucas sneers, "you make no sense."

Nathan grunts, "You make me sick."

"Yeah? Well the feeling is mutual. I feel sorry for Brooke next weekend, she's going to have to share her evening with you—a guy she can't even stand."

"Is that what she tells you?" he laughs in Luke's face.

"Yes," Lucas nods his head, "she does. And do you know what else? Peyton's opinion of you isn't any better. In fact, I'm pretty sure she _hates _you."

"I'm pretty sure she does too," Nathan chuckles again, "but only because I'm not trying to take her emo-ass back right now."

"She doesn't want to be with you," Lucas snorts, "and I can't see why she ever did."

"Just one of life's many mysteries, I guess," Nathan shrugs with a smug look on his face. "I mean, I can't understand what the hell Brooke sees in _you_. Or Haley for that matter, how the hell she's put up with you all of these years is beyond me. It's her I feel the most sorry for, she's had to pretend to care about you and your pathetic life for how long now?"

"I don't want to hear you even speak her name!" Lucas charges forward, "We've had this discussion already you smug piece of shit," he hisses into Nathan's face, "you don't say her name around me and I pretend like she doesn't tutor you out of pity."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure that's not why she helps me," he grins.

Lucas' fingers tighten around the basketball in his hands, "Stop wasting Haley's time, Nathan. She doesn't deserve your games, she's a good person."

"Just like you, right?" Nathan backs away a step.

Feeling exhausted, Lucas sighs and rubs his hands over his face, "What is that supposed to mean?" he sighs and rolls his eyes. "I mean it, Nathan. Leave her alone if you're not serious about the tutoring. Stop jerking her around."

Nathan snorts, "I will when you do."

"Wh-what?" Lucas shakes his head confused, "You're not making any sense again."

"I think I'm making all the sense in the world, right now," he mutters. "You don't even see the warning signs, do you? You're just going to walk right into that trap and when you do? Everything I said here tonight is going to make sense."

His brother says nothing, he doesn't blink or breathe either. Confusion overwhelms him to the point of being completely speechless.

"She's really good at getting what she wants," Nathan snatches the ball from out Luke's idle hands, "but she also gets bored really easily too. Once the shiny new toy glare wears off?" he shrugs and bounces the ball a few times, "she's just gonna dump you for the next best thing."

Lucas flinches in realization.

"Oh, and by the way?" the grin that spreads over Nathan's face makes Lucas feel sick, "and my days of warming the bench are over," he bends his knees and shoots the ball out for the hoop.

_Swish_.

As if it would do anything else.

Game on, bitch.

---x---

It's late that night when Brooke steps outside the house and pulls her cell out to call Lucas. Her mother hasn't come home yet, her grandmother is staying at a ritzy hotel, her father is… who knows? And Rachel is passed out on Brooke's bed in her room.

She just really needs to hear his voice, she needs to know that they're okay. They haven't spoken since she left him behind to leave with her grandmother. Lucas isn't the type of guy to leave her hanging, he would never do anything completely unexplained. He's a talker, an expresser, he couldn't hold out on her if he tried.

So why does it feel like he's trying?

What if Rachel's wrong?

She stares down at her phone and blinks in surprise when in the middle of the third unanswered ring she hears his voicemail. Indicating she's been deliberately sent there, he's screening his calls… he's avoiding her.

Disbelief floods her but she bites her tongue and goes back inside. Rachel is snoring lightly when she enters her room and she pushes the redhead to the side, climbing into the bed next to her. The clock reads midnight and even though Lucas would probably be asleep anyhow, she still knows… she _knows_ he's upset.

But what she really doesn't know is that across town, Lucas is sitting at the River Court thinking about his weekend. Though Nathan's words moments before haunt his conscience, he's still thinking about the day before. Saturday was spent with Peyton and Jenny, and he can't stop pondering something Peyton had said. She sounded so vulnerable, so unlike he's ever seen her.

When he should have been thinking about how to mend the awkward tension between himself and his girlfriend, he instead has been plagued with concern. Peyton is so broken and there's a part of him that wants so desperately to fix her. Even if it's not his place, even if he's in the middle of repairing a wrecked Brooke Davis.

He hates that he didn't answer her call. He wanted to hear her voice so badly, but he had to do it. Isn't that what Peyton said? Give her space? She needed time to sort out her problems, alone. Unfortunately, Lucas isn't used to allowing the people he cares about to go through anything troubling alone.

Then he thinks back to that time he'd given Peyton a ride home from school and she'd cried about how alone she was. She missed Brooke, she missed her dad… her mom. Lucas isn't aware that he has a hero complex, he sees it as an instinct rather than a weak character flaw. He's attracted to people who _need _him.

He just doesn't know it yet.

---x---

**Heads up! **If you like what you see, then you'll LOVE the deleted scenes/outtakes/origins story we plan to post very very very soon. Put us on alert so that you won't miss when _Comfortable Liar: Origins & Outtakes_ gets posted. Also, if you haven't already, please join our LiveJournal community. We add pics of the week, icons, banners, and so much more fun stuff to help keep you updated on what's going on with this fic/series. The reason it's a "members only" community is because we want to know how many of you are interested. Hope you guys join, we have over 103 members so far! Sooo awesome. We love you all!

Also, check the LJ for thanks yous for your amazing reviews. You guys seriously rock. ;)


	22. Champagne For My Real Friends…

**AN:** If you haven't done so already, please check out **Comfortable Liar: Origins & Outtakes**. Link is in the profile and we really encourage you guys to read it so that you can get to know the story even better. The first ch is how brachel became friends. Also, please remember to check out the LJ because this week will have pics of Brooke's cotillion dress and thank yous and more! _**We love you all and we appreciate each and every one of you. **_

---x---

**Part 2: **_**Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 21: **_Champagne For My Real Friends…_

**Junior Year**

_**February 18**__**th**_

_Just remember, it wasn't my choice. I didn't plan it and if I knew how to get out of it, I would._

She shakes her thoughts clear and takes a deep breath.

Champagne white and laced with a silver sash just above her waist, Brooke smiles at her reflection. The top portion of the dress is twisted to create a bohemian styled design. Knotted at the shoulders it's pulled down over her breasts, held in place by yet another tightened spill of expensive Gucci spooled satin that coiled around her torso. Long and luxurious the material then spills down her body and accentuates each and every curve. In a rain fall of satin and silk her gown pools down at her silver strapped covered feet like a river.

With toes that shine cleaner than glass, she lifts her right foot out and takes one step towards her reflection. After much deliberation, Brooke decides that she in fact is one _damn fine _Debutante. She's completely outdone herself with her latest creation and as the rest of the girls stare at her with eyes full of admiration, she grins. She looks amazing and for once she had no objections or insecurities. Because even Rachel's mouth had hung open after the final creation was complete.

"Brooke! You look amazing!" Christina gasps in awe, "Who made your dress? It's absolutely _stunning!_" She wants to know.

Bevin's head bobs, "You look _really _nice, Brooke."

"Did you buy off the rack?

"No way, Julia!" One girl scoffs, "Who buys their dress _off the rack?!_" She shudders in disgust. "So who is your tailor?"

"Yeah, Brooke." Another starts in and Brooke starts to back away feeling suffocated, "I have to have something done by them. Did you get an independent designer or did you pull strings to have one made by—"

"Back off, whores she made it herself." Rachel scowls from her perch behind her friend. She pulls her back down into the chair before one of the makeup vanities and starts to braid a section of her hair, "I swear they're like leeches, all of them!"

"Relax, Rach they mean well." She sighs, "I made it myself guys, but the material is Gucci. I just changed the original design into something more… _me_." She shrugs.

They're about to hone in and ask for their own designs from her when Rachel shoots them all a look that makes them scatter. She chuckles afterwards and keeps pulling back pieces of hair from Brooke's face until she's twisted every strand up into a fancy up do. She completes the look by weaving strings of shimmery ribbon through her hair and then stands back and nods.

"Done," she pats Brooke's shoulder, "and I'm out." She adds and grabs her things to leave.

"Thanks, Raye." Brooke sighs and turns around to hug her, "I know how much you hate these charity things."

Rachel winks and moves for the door, "Oh, Brooke." She spins back around.

"Yeah?"

_Nathan wants to break you and Lucas up because he's jealous._

They stare at each other for a few silent heart beats and then Rachel says, "Be careful, okay?" She whispers. "Don't let him ruin this for you." She nods. "And you know… you look really nice," she adds and quickly leaves the room.

Brooke nods and when Rachel is gone she finishes her make up in the next room over by herself. Staring into her reflection long after she's done, she repeats the same phrase over and over until it's the only thing residing in her head.

"_You love Lucas… you love Lucas… you _**love** _Lucas…"_

She stops after the tenth time and powders her nose.

"And he loves you."

---x---

He's hanging out with Peyton again, and Lucas is enjoying it despite the fact that he still thinks she's wrong about ignoring Brooke. When she laughs at something he says about Faulkner, he frowns. He hadn't meant for it to be funny, but her smile reaches her eyes and he cracks a smile anyhow.

"You still think I should leave Brooke alone?" He asks wearily and looks down into his glass of fizzing orange soda. "I mean, it's just that…" he sighs, "I dunno. It doesn't feel right." He shrugs. "_**I**_ should be the one escorting her to this thing."

"Luke," Peyton reaches out to touch his shoulder, "Brooke is always going to with hold a little piece of who she is from you. It's just what she does, she can't help it. She sees her life like a coin. One side is the life of luxury and the other…" she pauses.

Lucas looks up at her from his drink, holding onto her every word.

She tries not to smirk, "The other side is… well, for lack of better words? It's _you_."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he frowns.

"Her family will never approve of you Luke, I don't mean to upset you. It's just a fact. Don't take it personally, they don't even like me. And we've been friends since kindergarten. Their all snobs, Luke. You're better off _not_ having to go to this cotillion crap."

He falls into deep thought.

"How do they see Nathan?" He whispers without looking at her. Too afraid to let her see his insecurities.

She'd eat him alive, he doesn't know this but she could. She _would_… she _is_.

Peyton smiles behind a hand because she knows exactly where to push to set his emotions off like a nuclear bomb. Push here, press there—twist, turn and tie a knot. Then BOOM! Bomb detonated, mission accomplished.

But she's still in the beginning stages of her plan. She has to plant the seed first, watch it grow, give it sunlight and nourishment… just add water. God, it's so easy and fool proof she could laugh. He's so fucking gullible!

"They love him," she plays the sympathy card, "he's the golden boy, Luke. Just like she's the golden girl." She sighs and pretends to be lost in thought. "Sometimes I just feel like I'm in the way."

His hand slides over hers, "Why do you say that, Peyt?"

His warm skin contact makes her uncomfortable. His eyes are so damn caring and his tone of voice always makes her feel safe. Why does he have to be so damn perfect? Why couldn't she have met _him _instead of Nathan? Life could have been so much easier had she latched onto the bastard Scott. Then she wouldn't be caught up in all these lies and shit.

Or would she?

"I feel close to you right now, Lucas," she whispers. "I feel like I can tell you anything."

"You can trust me Peyton, we're friends." He nods.

But what if she wants more? Would he be willing to give her that?

"I guess in a way I just feel like we understand each other. I'm with Nathan—well, most of the time," she adds with a slight roll of her eyes, "and you're with Brooke," she sighs then looks up at him, "and yet here we are."

He blinks and starts to pull away when he realizes how close their faces are to each other but she stops him with her almost vulnerable voice.

"Don't you ever feel left out?" she mumbles, "They walk around like they own the world. They have their money and their fancy cars and designer clothes and shoes. They party and lie and cheat and hurt everyone around them just because they can."

"That's not true, Brooke wouldn't—"

"You don't know her like I do." She snaps suddenly. "Like it or not Lucas, she is a part of _them_. You'll try to say there is no 'us' and 'them' but the more you try to prove that, the more it's going to hurt in the end."

He stares at her worried that she's trying to warn him that he's going to get hurt, Why would he say that to him? Why would say these things about her best friend?

"They have everything," she says softly and squeezes his hand, "but they're not happy." Her voice is low and barely audible.

"Are _you _happy, Peyton?" He dares to ask.

She licks her lips and looks up into his eyes, "Are you?"

Two weeks ago he would have said yes, but right now he's not so sure.

---x---

The guys are sitting around the room dressed in tuxes that make them all look like a bunch of retarded penguins. Someone's brought in an iPod dock and the volume is turned up to almost the last notch. Nathan winces and moves towards the balcony in hopes of getting away from the idiots who surround him.

"Nate, dude! Check out this song!" Tim shouts pointing to the music player. Another track off 50 Cents latest album blares out from the speakers and the guys shout out the lyrics and pass around a bowl of weed or a bottle of Vodka.

The idea of getting through this night in an intoxicated state of mind sounds better than the alternative. It's been weeks since he's gotten laid and he blames his unsatisfied sex-drive as the reason he feels so damn jittery around Davis lately. All those curves and those red lips and that damn sexy voice…

Nathan pulls out his own flask filled with Jack Daniels and takes a swig. It burns down his throat and gurgles in his stomach long enough to let him know it's working. Soon he's going to feel numb so when he holds Brooke's hand and leads her across the stage, he won't feel a damn thing. When they waltz around the ballroom doing one of those ridiculous dances classes they had to learn, it wont matter. Because everything will be a blur.

One face will blend into the next and soon they will all look the same. He just has to wait until then. So he takes another drink and then another and right when he starts to feel the effects of a good buzz, the director enters the room and shuts the music off for their attention. Bottles clank and swear words are hissed as the guys scramble to hide their booze and drugs.

"We're on in five minutes," Philippe—the event planner—eyes the room with suspicion, "I suggest you all start to form a line in the order you were told in three." He holds up the required number of fingers and watches them closely.

After he leaves, the guys all take one last puff of the magic dragon or a gulp of alcohol then one by one they exit the room. Nathan waits until he's the last one in the room and then he sighs and looks down into the flask in his hand. It's less than halfway full and if he finishes it he knows when it wears off he'll be shit out of luck.

_Bzzt! Bzzt!_

His cell phone buzzes for his attention from deep within his pants pocket. He pulls it out to see a missed call from his mother—no doubt to remind him to be on his best behavior—and two unread messages. The first is from Owen telling him to leave Brooke alone or face the consequences of an Owen Morello ass-kicking. But the second is what makes his fingers tighten around the flask that still warms his hand.

_Please try to be normal 2nite._

He snorts at Brooke's text and quickly sends back a response; _What's so great about normal?_

He slips the container into his back pocket and walks over to look into the nearest mirror. His hair is trimmed short, eyes blue as the sky and bow tied in exact instruction. With a bored sigh, he slides his hands down over his premium High Twist Australian Yarn fabric tailcoat and pulls at his tie feeling uncomfortable and smoothes out his notch lapels. He checks his waist coat and frowns at the silver material that's embroidered considerably.

He looks nice, but he feels like a chump.

Nathan grimaces and pushes the matching silver linen handkerchief further down into his breast pocket. When the edges of his sight start to blur he knows it's time to go. He straightens his jacket, pulls at his bowtie again and nods at himself in the mirror.

He's ready.

---x---

She's nervous.

She doesn't know why exactly—okay that's a lie. She knows _exactly _why she's nervous and he's standing 18 steps down below the second floor tier. She just _knows _he's going to do something to piss her off and/or embarrass her. Because it's what Nathan Royal Scott lives for. Ever since they were kids. She pulls at her gloves and links her fingers together behind her back. Screw him, she can do this. No problem.

But then the music starts to play and she swears she loses all resolve. Light piano keys begin followed shortly by the North Carolina University Orchestra. They sound beautiful but she can't pay much attention to them because she's third to last on the list and they've already called out the second name. She waits behind the railing and tries not to bite her fingers because they're currently covered with matching champagne colored gloves.

The pressure is on. Everyone will be staring directly at her because she is the sole heir to the Davis family fortune.

She's positive that whatever has been written on the card to be read aloud as soon as she walks out into the open, will be all a bunch of hot air. She just knows her mother has probably added in a thing or two about herself. Her grandmother's ability to always throw in a zing or two about how much more wealthy she is than the rest of Tree Hill will be just as embarrassing if not more.

Suddenly the pearls around her neck feel too tight. She touches her hair and hopes that none of it is out of place, then she rubs her lips together to make sure they're covered evenly with gloss. Bevin steps onto the first step and the breath hitches in Brooke's throat because after this her name is going to be called.

But on the third step Bevin bites it and skids down half the staircase on her ass. Everyone starts to laugh and Brooke is the only one who rushes forward to check and make sure Bevin is okay. When Bevin pops right back up, Brooke starts to laugh and then she too join in and starts to giggle behind a gloved hand.

With the tension in the air cleared away, Brooke takes a deep breath and grabs the sides of her dress so that she can walk forward. She doesn't want to trip over her gown like Bevin and do a face plant in front of everyone. The thought brings another giggle to her lips and so when her name is called she descends the stairs into womanhood with a giant grin on her lovely face.

Then she hears her name and it feels like someone's stuck a hand into her chest to squeeze her lungs tight. This feels wrong without Lucas. Quickly, she snaps out of it and steps forward into the blinding light at the head of the staircase. The words that are said in her honor, her heritage and financial background sound like static to her ears.

Nathan's head snaps upwards and he swears his heart stops just as his lungs stop breathing. She's absolutely stunning. There are no words in the verbal language that could describe her and if Nathan could find any he'd learn the language in fluent so that he could recite the words over and over again.

His legs are almost too jittery to move and he curses himself for nearly killing the small flask of whisky. When their eyes catch she instantly knows he's been drinking and the disappointment in her eyes almost shocks him sober. With a jolt of electricity, her hand slides into his delicately and just as rehearsed, he bows and she curtsies with the slight bend of her knee.

"You're beautiful," he whispers to her truthfully.

"And you're drunk," she mutters back in anger.

He pulls her hand to under his arm and leads her to into the room of gawking adults and classmates. It's as if they're royalty and the last two debutants are drowned out and barely noticed because now that the crowd has seen them, no one else quite measures up. After all, it's not everyday you see the king of Tree Hill walk along side a Queen who does not belong to him.

"I cannot believe you're drunk," she hisses under her breath and nods politely to a few of her parents friends.

Nathan does the same then looks down at her, "It's not as if I had a choice," he growls low, "how the hell else am I supposed to do this and keep a straight face?"

When they make it to the back of the room she jerks her arm free of him and shoves him back a few steps. "This wasn't my choice, Nathan. Our parents set this up, _not _me."

"No really, you think?" he plays dumb then scowls at her and pulls a flask from out his back pocket. "You really do amaze me with that quick wit of yours." He scoffs and lifts the silver container to his lips.

"What are you doing?" She gasps and yanks the alcohol from his hands. "Are you really that stupid, Nathan? Or do you just hate me that much?"

He blinks over at her in astonishment, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Rachel told me what you planned on doing tonight," she replies in harsh whispers, "and you can _forget it!_ I don't care if you're jealous or whatever the hell you are right now. I am completely devoted to Lucas and I—"

"Chill," he scowls down at her and takes another swig of alcohol, "that plan bombed the second it was thought up. And by the why? I'm not jealous," he lies to her face so convincingly he almost fools himself, "it was never about _you_."

She opens her mouth to respond and then suddenly Bevin is bouncing over happily with an uncomfortable Antwon 'Skills' Taylor. Who would have thought that _he'd _end up the arm candy? Seeing him fidget there beside the blonde makes her think of how Lucas would be acting had she had the guts to bring him.

The word _shame _comes to mind and when she looks up at Skills he slightly lifts his chin in acknowledgement. She smiles back and says hey and Nathan watches them interact in disgust. He can't even believe Bevin's parents have allowed her to take this Rivercourt loser.

He needs to get drunk, because standing so close to Brooke without being able to touch her is torture. Turning his head he catches Tim's eye and just like in grade school he grins and makes his way over to start trouble. In his hand is a glass of champagne and Nathan smirks because he loves how twisted high society is. When a charity event is a cause for alcohol consumption without guilt.

"Nate," Tim approaches and slaps a hand onto his back, "and Brooke," he bows dramatically and she rolls her eyes. "Hey Bev, nice nose dive." He teases and she blushes beside Skills who scowls at Tim.

Brooke notices he greets everyone but Skills.

"Leave her alone, Tim." She replies in Bevin's defense.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you didn't laugh your ass off!" Tim reenacts the fall and even though Bevin laughs in her usual goofy way, both Brooke and Skills do not find it funny.

Neither does Nathan but that's only because he's in a bad mood.

"Alright man, I think we get it." Skills mutters with a cool tone that's neither hostile nor friendly.

As if noticing him for the first time, Tim blinks and looks at him. "What up, I'm Tim," he holds his hand out.

Skills stares down at it like it's covered in slime and Brooke's eyes widen because in a room filled with people who believe him to be trash, he doesn't care. Because in a way, he _is _better than all of them. He lives his life freely and so what if times are hard and he doesn't have his own set of wheels? He has heart where they have pride and even though Tim doesn't deserve it, he takes his hand and shakes it.

"Yeah I know who you is," Skills nods his head. "You and that one right there," he motions to Nathan, "made the first few weeks of Luke's basketball career a living hell."

Nathan grunts and Tim laughs, "Yeah it was awesome." He lifts a hand to high five Skills who in turn scowls back at him. The hand slowly makes it way back down but Tim is not let down, in fact he's even more excited. "Hey, you guys wanna go out back and start a _real _party? Cuz this champagne shit is weak!"

"Sounds like a plan," Nathan mumbles but Brooke scoffs and pulls him back.

"Are you kidding me?" She shakes her head, "You know what? I don't even care. Just go." She waves him away.

"Don't worry B, Skills and I will stay with you." Bevin grins and Brooke smiles at her appreciatively.

"I don't understand why you didn't just bring Luke," Skills shrugs.

"Because Skills, this isn't really his scene." She sighs, "I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable."

"That doesn't mean he wouldn't have come Brooke, that boy is crazy about you." He tells her and Nathan rolls his eyes and turns to leave before he vomits everywhere.

When Nathan's gone Brooke feels some of the tension lift from her shoulders and she sighs in relief. But now all she can think about is Lucas at home alone, or working in the café bored out of his mind. _At least he'll have Haley_, she thinks and frowns. Her opinion of Haley isn't all that great but she's pretty sure that could be partly because she's jealous of her. After all, she and Nathan seem to get along well and she's been friends with Lucas since forever.

"What are you thinking about, Davis?" Skills nudges her, "You miss him, don't you." He teases. "Don't worry, he'll still be there when all this is said and done. He don't ever stay mad for that long anyways." He shrugs.

"Lucas is mad at me?" She asks in complete shock.

Skills face falls when he realizes he's accidentally said something he obviously shouldn't have. "Uhh… no?" He says and Bevin looks back and forth between the two of them and frowns in confusion.

"I can't believe he's mad at me!" Brooke snaps angrily, "He told me he was fine with this, how _dare _he lie to my face!"

"Brooke, I didn't mean to start nothin' I thought you knew," Skills tries to calm her, "it's all good shorty, no need to blow a fuse."

"I should have known he was lying, he hasn't answered any of my calls." She scoffs and shakes her head.

"To his credit, he's been working at his moms café a lot lately." Skills replies. "Look, Luke is my boy and if he was in the wrong, I'd say so. But…" he shrugs.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She grows upset.

"No offense, B. Davis but can you blame him?" Skills cuts in on his boys behalf, "I mean, you _are _here with his worst enemy. Shit like that's gotta be a blow to the ego, you'd rather go with his jerk of a brother because he live up in that big house? Come on, it don't get more messed up than that."

"I am not here by _choice_," she hisses, "my parents have had this set up since I was two years old!" She snaps like a poisonous viper. "And _no offense_ Skills? But you don't know a _damn _thing about me or my life. So please just mind your own damn business!"

Her voice breaks towards the end of her sentence and in a whirlwind of silk and satin she flings her dress skirt aside so that she can make a hasty exit. She gets only so far before her mother and Gand'Mere are on her like white on rice. They ohh and aww at her ensemble and Charlotte turns to her collogues and tells them what an exquisite taste in fashion she has.

Its at this time that Brooke realizes her dearest Grand'Mere had not been the one to purchase the dress. Because if she had she would know that it's a complete 180 from its original design. But she can't say she's surprised, she just wonders what poor sap Charlotte had given the task to. A stranger on the street? Or a decent looking maid in her Upper East Side loft?

She excuses herself and her family is so caught up in a conversation about investments they don't even mind. Her mother laughs at something someone says and the fake chuckle is like nails on a chalkboard. Charlotte daintily places a hand to her chest and gives a light giggle herself. They're so phony Brooke can barely stay in the same room with them.

She looks around the room in search of her father and it dawns on her that he's nowhere to found. She closes her eyes to take a deep cleansing breath and tells herself that tonight isn't all that important anyways. Who cares if he's not there, since when was he ever? He was good for a two second heart-to-heart but anything past that was optional.

She should be grateful to receive even _that_. Because she was born a girl when he wanted a boy and her mother hadn't wanted children at all. She should be so lucky to even be acknowledged even in the small way she is.

Storming towards the back balcony she slams her palms against the double doors and ignores the looks on the faces of the people outside. She grabs a bottle of champagne someone's swiped from inside and carries it with her as she turns left and starts down the concrete steps.

Whispers start up shortly after because minutes before everyone had witnessed Nathan do the exact same act. Tim pushes his wasted debutante date out of his lap so that he can stand up and see what everyone is talking about. A small part of him wants to defend Nathan because it's obvious to him that his friend is going through some tough shit. But he just can't seem to open his mouth.

But he thinks that could be because his date has just stuck her hand down the front of his pants.

---x---

Rachel sighs for the fifth time and Owen groans from his place at the head of his bed. Placing a pen in the middle of his book to keep his place, he shuts it and sets it aside on the nightstand beside his bed. His hand reaches out to take her bare foot and softly he caresses the sole of it with his thumb. She stops swinging the other and continues to lay on her stomach watching the television.

"What is it?" he says bringing her toes to his lips and pressing a kiss against them.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" her voice sounds muffled from her cheek being smashed against a curled fist. She heaves yet another long sigh and changes the channel again then turns the TV off altogether before rolling onto her back and looking over at him from the bottom of the bed.

"Babe," Owen chuckles and sets her foot down onto his chest and runs a hand up and down her smooth and tanned bare leg, "you seriously underestimate you ability to hide things from me."

He gazes into her warm brown eyes and pushes her foot from his chest to crawl into the space between her legs and set a hand on either side of her waist. They never break eye contact, she pushes up to her elbows and raises her chin. A small smile tugs at her lips just before she reaches a hand out to trace the lines of his face.

"I love those dimples," she whispers and lifts upwards so that he has no choice but to pull back and sit up against the headboard.

"Do you, now?" his eyes watch her every move.

She nods and straddles his lap, "You know what I love more?" her nose nuzzles his.

"My keen sense of style?" he jokes.

Rachel giggles huskily and slides both her hands up his chest to push against him, "I love how adorable you are when you think I'm going to open up to you," she laughs and a slight yelp escapes her lips when his hands clench over her thighs.

"Tease," he growls hungrily.

"Just shut up and distract me, Owen," she mutters just before she pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it aside.

"I can do that," he nods eagerly and slides his hands upwards towards her breasts, "but I'm not." His fingers stop short of their desired destination.

"_Tease_," she shoots back.

He shakes his head, "I'm not adorable when I think you're gonna open up to me," he chuckles deeply, "I'm adorable because I _know_ you're gonna open up to me."

"Nope," she jerks her head side to side, "now shut up, and do me cuz I'm horny." She pushes herself down onto him and gasps, "Oh, and it looks like you are too, Mr. Morello."

He groans and the muscles his neck tighten as he struggles to control himself, "So not fair," his words come out strained, "Raye, you're gonna tell me what's wrong. I mean—oh fuck it," he gives in and wraps an arm around her before yanking her around so that she's on her back.

"I win," she grins just as he rolls over her.

"You win," his deep voice rumbles over her skin as he buries his face in her neck.

---x---

Half the bottle is floating around in his stomach when he hears the crunch of grass beneath bare feet. He sees a flash of white in the corner of his eye and turns to see Brooke walking across the golf course towards God only knew where. Her heels hanging in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other, she walks past him through the trees without even noticing him.

She looks pissed and something about that swagger of hers tells him that it's not because of him tonight. So this can only mean two things. Either Skills and Bevin have irritated her or she's gotten into it with her mother again. He's not sure what it is that makes him push up to his feet to follow after her. But he's pretty sure it has to do with his alcohol impaired judgment.

He hears the bubbly liquor swish around inside its green glass bottle, lifts it up to his lips and tips it back. Nathan hates how stupid he feels wearing his expensive suit and dorky bow tie and… he scowls and rips the bow from off his neck. He nearly chokes himself in the process but once its untied it hangs around his neck like wilted petals on a flower.

"Hey, it's me again," he hears Brooke's voice from somewhere to his left, "I'm leaving you yet another message to call me back. Skills already blew your cover so I know you're mad at me. I just wish you would be man enough to say it to my damn face," she snaps.

Nathan smirks at the harsh words she leaves on his loser brother's voicemail.

"I'm still at the Cotillion but I just thought you'd like to know I'm having a miserable time. My date is drunk, my mother could care less if I were alive or not, my Grandmother couldn't even be bothered to notice that I spent the past three days ripping her dress apart to create my own. Oh, and my dad? Didn't even come. So there, I hope you're happy to know all of this. I really hope you are Lucas, because _this _is exactly the kind of shit I was too embarrassed for you to see. So thank you, thank you _so much _for making my night all the much better." She scoffs.

Nathan frowns, what hell did Lucas do to piss her off?

"You have no idea that I just want to curl up with you in your stupid twin size bed with your stupid flannel sheets and your stupid little nite-lite that you swear is a 'book-light.' Yep. So despite of what you may think I'm not that shallow, Luke. But thanks for thinking I was. Thanks a lot."

She slaps her phone closed and throws it down onto the grass. The bottle clinks to the grown when her shaky hands loose grip and then she's peeling the gold foil from the top. He feels terrible for making her already shitty night even worse. But its her own fault, _she _is the one who chose Lucas. He didn't push them together she willingly cut the cord and dumped him like a bad habit.

Nathan refuses to feel bad for being who he is.

But watching her struggle to open the champagne bottle, he sighs and smoothes the wrinkles out of his coat jacket. He pulls one side over the other and buttons the front, sets the now empty alcohol bottle down and starts to redo his bow tie. Just because he's acting like a jackass doesn't mean he has to _look _like one too.

"_Stupid fucking lid!_" Brooke screams in frustration.

He chuckles from behind her and pulls the bow tight to finish it and polish off his appearance. "They don't pop anymore, you know." He chuckles and makes his way over to pull the bottle from her hands.

"What?" She scowls up at him.

"The champagne bottles don't pop out anymore, they made these lids that you just twist and pull off." He shrugs.

She scoffs, "Well I don't know what kind of cheap shit _you _are drinking but this is a 1993 bottle of Louis Roederer _Cristal_." She taps the gold bottle with a finger.

Nathan glances down at it a second time and nods, "Well look at that. Where'd you swipe this from Davis? You have a secret stash I don't know about? The rest of us have had to settle with Dom Pérignon and here you sit with a bottle that's twice the value."

"Are you going to stand there and irritate me or are you going to open the damn thing and share it with me?" She replies and his eyes widen in surprise.

"As the lady wishes," he gives a mock bow and starts to pull back the cork screw. She watches him struggle and giggles behind a hand. "You laughing at me, Davis?" He asks and turns the bottle towards her which makes her shriek and almost roll down the hill.

"You ass!" She huffs and jumps back up to her feet, "do you even know what it is you're doing? That bottle should be—_oh my—Nathan!_" she screams when the top pops and he shakes the bottle to make the champagne shoot up into the air.

"You are so dead!" She yelps.

It rains back down upon them and even though she's shouting at him, she's also laughing. Nathan tries to hold back a grin but he finds that it's near impossible. Because the moment those dimples poke out he's done for. The champagne fizzes out the top and foams all over them, their parents are going to _kill _them but in those thirty seconds they laugh as if everything is okay.

"Ooooh," she shakes her head at clicks her tongue at him, "you are gonna get into so much trouble." She teases like a child half her age, "Victoria is going to murder you in your sleep when I tell her what you've done." She giggles and runs a hand over her hair to push back the wet strands in her face.

"You look good wet," he smirks and reaches a hand out for her wrist. To his surprise, and hers, she lets him. "I mean it," he adds as he draws her closer, "you look beautiful tonight, Brooke. I'm sorry I had to mess it up."

"Don't get soft of me now, Scott." The side of her lips quirk, "Cuz I could really use a friend right about now." She whispers.

He hesitates, because they were never friends before, during, or after things got complicated. Acquaintances at best, but never _friends_. Yet he nods and sits down onto the grass when she pulls him down beside her. Together they pass the bottle back and forth and stare out at the open golf course. Nathan recalls an old memory of him and Dan and how he's nearly taken his dads head off with a golf ball and shares the story with Brooke. She chuckles in that raspy voice of hers and tells him about the time her dad's golf cart got stuck in a ditch.

It's weird to him, because he's not touching her or caressing her or kissing her. They're just _talking_ or sharing childhood memories. No sexual innuendos, no sneaky hands or shy grins. They just sit there, not even really looking at each other—except for when Nathan sneaks in a side glance every now and then—and they talk about everything from the stars in the sky to random facts about themselves.

It's actually a fairly nice conversation, he thinks. She laughs at something he says about an old grade school adventure with Tim and when she does she leans into him slightly. His heart jumps in his chest and he wishes he knew why. All he knows is that a hour ago he wanted to be drunk so that he could be numb.

But sitting next to her now he sees that no alcohol could push her out of his mind. He can recall the taste of her lips, the salt in her skin, and the soft feel of her brown waves through his fingers. He hates the fact that every time she leans into him he turns his head so that he can smell her hair. On the third attempt to smell her he's nearly caught and the near miss alone is cause for alarm. He's really starting to scare himself.

"What?" She smiles at him, he's been staring at her for the past two minutes and if she were anyone else the intensity in his eyes would be a slight cause for concern. But it's not and instead she returns his gaze and even rests her chin in her hand so that she can make it obvious that she is willing to participate in a staring contest if that's what he wants.

No one blinks for almost a full three minutes and then they hear laughter a few yards away and jump apart. The voices move further south down towards the lake and with a sigh they relax again. The bottle rests empty at their feet and she absently rolls it back and forth with her left foot.

"Do you think I'm shallow?" She asks him out of the blue.

His hand shoots out to stop the bottle, "What are we doing?"

She pauses and looks up at him, "What do you mean?"

Nathan doesn't want to ruin their little moment of servitude, but he has to know.

"This isn't us," he mutters, "we're not _friends_, Brooke. We never were." He shrugs. "What makes tonight any different?"

"Maybe we're trying something new," she responds softly.

"Maybe you're just pissed at Lucas and I'm an agreeable alternative," he snaps out of nowhere. He expects her lash out at him and make things familiar and less experimental. He can't be her damn friend.

They can never _just _be friends. Not now.

But instead of her default reaction of anger, she gives a small and bitter laugh. "So you heard me on the phone, huh?" she shakes her head with closed eyes and looks up at the sky. "You couldn't even get over yourself for _one _fucking night, could you?" She turns to look at him.

He scowls at her confused and she continues, "You want to know why I choose Lucas?" she whispers and throws down the gauntlet.

He gulps, "No," he replies honestly, "not really."

She sighs and wraps her arms around her knees. She looks like a fallen angel sitting beside him in white. He swears there's a halo glowing above her head with all those ribbons sparkling in the moonlight. His fingers burn to touch her, his hands shake at his sides and he has to clench them together to keep them still.

Brooke feels a pressure in her chest build up. Because of all the people who have let her down tonight, she honestly did not believe Nathan would be one of them. Lucas had been a harsh blow but it didn't really come out of left field. Her family were a real piece of work so nothing they could ever do would shock her. Peyton had ditched out on her promise to help her get ready but then again the blonde is becoming more and more undependable with each passing day.

She swallows her tears and takes a deep breath. She's better than this, more controlled. She doesn't do this, she doesn't feel sorry for herself. This kind of shit is for people like Peyton—not her. Nathan continues to watch her without blinking and it only adds to the hurt in her chest when she realizes she wants him to kiss her.

For some reason the lyrics in a song Rachel played once come to mind. She tries to remember the tune because she knows once she does the exact lyrics that describe her and Nathan will come to her. And for some reason she wants him to hear them.

_Click_.

There it is, she smiles to herself as it starts to play inside her head like an old record player. It's a beautiful song, but its meant for talented singers to recite—not her. So she whispers the first few words and then the chorus pops into her head.

"Should have known you'd bring me heartache," she says low, recalling the haunting piano keys and soft voice of the original artist. Nathan turns his head to look at her again and she locks gazes with him and says, "_Almost lovers always do_."

He blinks confused, "What?" Nathan shakes his head and moves to follow when she stands up. "Where are you going? Brooke, wait." He pulls her back. "Look, I'm sorry okay? I just…" he stops and sighs feeling exhausted.

"You just what?" Her husky voice comes out in a supple undertone.

He wets his lips with his tongue and tries to look away from her face so that he doesn't have to look into her eyes, "It's always gonna be there, Brooke. It's just always going to fucking be right there."

She gulps as a shiver runs its way down her spine, "What is?" she whispers with restraint. She knows exactly what he's referring to and by the way his hands fist at his sides she can tell that he knows too.

He sighs and rubs a tired hand over his face, "Why can't it go back to the way it was?" he replies and glides his hand down her arm to grasp her hand lightly.

She exhales slowly and slides her fingers free, "Because, Nathan," she starts.

"Because _why?_" He demands, pushing the limits of calm tones and controlled tempers.

"Because I don't _want _to, okay? Is that clear enough for you? Just stay _away _from me!" She snaps out feeling vulnerable all of the sudden. She whirls around and pulls that angelic dress of hers up into her arms so that she can walks away from him as fast as she can.

Leaving behind the empty bottle of Cristal, leaving behind her shoes and possibly what's left of her dignity, but what's more important—she leaves _him_ behind as well.

---x---

It's almost midnight by the time she finally gets to where she's wanted to be all night.

With Lucas.

Pulling the thin silk shawl around her shoulders tighter to keep warm, Brooke tries to hold back a shiver. She pauses to bend down and look into the side mirror on the pickup truck beside her and frowns at what she sees. She looks like crap with her fading eye shadow, smeared mascara and damp locks. Quickly wiping her fingers over and under her eyes she fixes her makeup and sighs at her reflection.

"Whatever," she mutters with the roll of her eyes and heads down the sidewalk towards Karen's Café. All she wants is to see _him_.

The ride over had felt like forever but she knows it will all be worth it in about ten seconds. Even if he is still mad at her or she feels still slightly disappointed in him. Even if everything right now feels like its upside down and he hasn't answered a single one of her calls. Still, she wants the safety he brings and the love that he's promised her.

Isn't love and forgiveness what relationships are about? At least that's what she's heard because everyone she knows who's ever actually _been _in a relationship have all given her different bullet points.

Rachel says it's about continuous sex.

Peyton says its about lies.

Owen says its about being honest.

Kellan used to say that…

Oh _hell_ no, she's not going to think about him. Kellan is in the past, a past that Lucas will never know anything about. And she's not going to think about Nathan either.

Brooke shakes her head and wonders where the hell she heard the "love and forgiveness" crap from. Because its not from her friends and it's definitely not from her family. Her parents relationship is practically nonexistent and her grandmother hasn't slept in the same bed as her husband in 25 years. Brooke cant even remember the last time she's even seen her grandfather, he never accompanies his wife anywhere. Not even when she comes on these nice little miserable 'visits.'

Maybe she got those storybook notions from movies and TV. She bets Lucas doesn't have such a hard time knowing what love and life is about. Karen is like the best damn mom on the planet and even though she's been screwed over by Dan she still has the decency to raise her son with good values. Brooke just hopes Lucas can show her a thing or two to help repair those sour thoughts she has deeply imbedded on her brain.

The shawl slips from her shoulders and when she pulls it back up she looks into the front window of the café and freezes. The large _Karen's Café _logo covers most of the glass but between the _N _and apostrophe _S_ is a scene that makes her body feel as if the blood has been drained free.

Peyton and Lucas, together and laughing over milkshakes.

The scene is so _Pleasantville _she could laugh. Since when is Peyton so normal? And why does it have to happen with _her _boyfriend? Brooke tries her best not to get angry and to help ease those explosive emotions she takes a deep breath. But no amount of breathing can keep the spawning jealousy from entering her bloodstream.

She can't be mad at Peyton, not entirely anyways. Because it's not like Brooke is so innocent and she can't stop them from being friends. Who is she to decide who her boyfriend is allowed to associate himself with?

_Weren't you just trying to be 'friends' with Nathan a while ago?_

True as it is that Peyton and Nathan share a toxic relationship that's technically a death echo, they are still a couple. Even if they're on yet another 'off' period. She's tired of technicalities and shameful excuses. She's done with that part of her life and she has been since the moment she and Lucas exchanged _I love you_'s_._

Chin held high, shoulders wrapped and posture straight she moves for the entrance. Call her selfish but she doesn't like what she sees when she places her hand on the door handle and pushes. The bell above her head jingles and the pair of golden haired teens whip their faces around to see her enter the café.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she pauses and places a hand to her chest, "were you closed to visitors?"

Peyton flinches in surprise and nearly gasps, "Well get a load of you princess," she lets slip, "aren't you just the belle of the ball?"

Lucas blinks is awe and slowly circles the counter, "Brooke, wow you look…" he shakes his head taking her in with his eyes. "_Wow_, you're beautiful." He locks gazes with her eyes in pure amazement.

"Funny, because I'm surprised you even noticed seeing as how I've been standing outside watching you two make nice for the past few minutes." She inadvertently snaps. "Maybe I should go and let you two continue whatever it is that you were so involved in that you had to ignore my phone calls for the past two days."

She's almost embarrassed by the bitterness in her voice. She's not one to be all jealous. She's Brooke Davis, capable of scoring with any guy she wants. She's on top of the food-chain and she has nothing to fear.

Or does she?

"Brooke," Lucas reaches for her and winces when she jerks away from him.

Her eyes flash towards Peyton, "I'm glad you found the time to keep Luke company, Peyton. You're such a great friend you decided to spend time here rather than help me get ready for Cotillion like you said you would."

"You know that blue blood bullshit isn't my scene, Brooke." Peyton snaps and Lucas flinches in shock of the bite in her tone. This isn't the Peyton he knows.

"Regardless," Brooke says back in a cool tenor. Suddenly she's not sure what angers her most, Peyton's way of belittling her life or the way the blonde keeps worming her way into Lucas' company. "I still manage to make it to each and every one of your art shows. All I wanted was for you to show me the same consideration, Peyton. Even _Rachel _came and you know how much she hates anything having to do with that part of our life."

Peyton scoffs, "Your life? See?" she turns to Lucas, "This is exactly the kind of stuff I was telling you about. It's always two separate things Luke," Peyton grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder, "us and them. Right Brooke? The haves and the have not's."

Brooke's jaw falls open in surprise because honestly, this is all news to her. Peyton has never mouthed complains about feeling left out and this is all a bunch of bullshit anyways. Peyton is nowhere near 'poor'. Sure, she's not as wealthy as the Scott's or the Gatina's but she has always been in the popular crowd.

"Why are you acting like this, Peyton?" She asks confused, "Are you mad at me or something? Because I thought we were cool up until you started insulting me and now you're trash talking me behind my back?" She scoffs in disbelief.

"Brooke," Lucas slides a hand over her bare shoulder and draws her towards him, "Peyton and I weren't talking about anything specific, okay? She was just keeping me company." He smiles down at her and rubs his thumb down the side of her face. It feels nice but she can't help but feel like Peyton and Lucas have been sharing things that go deeper than a friendly milkshake.

"I'm gonna go," Peyton rolls her eyes and walks to the door. But on the way she passes Brooke who's hand darts out to smack her shoulder. "What the hell, Brooke?" She snaps with a heated scowl.

Brooke merely shrugs, "Tag team, right? I had Nate, you took Luke and now we trade back. Tag," she hits her again even harder than the first time, "you're it."

Peyton leaves without comment and Lucas blinks in confusion. He doesn't understand what had just gone down between the two best friends but he knows it couldn't have been good. He wants to tell Brooke how sorry he is for avoiding her calls but when his mouth opens she presses her hand to his lips.

"I'm sorry," he whispers behind her fingers.

"Did you get my last message?" She asks.

He frowns and pulls his cell phone from out his back pocket to see her latest missed call. _New voicemail _lights up on his screen and he feels terrible because he hadn't even known it rang to begin with. He turns it off and sets it down onto the counter beside them.

Strangely enough Brooke seems relieved.

"Erase it," she mumbles and he can't help but wonder why she seemed so angry moments ago and now she just looks sad and tired. Of course its hidden behind a perfect Davis smile so he can't really be sure.

"I'm a jerk." He sighs in shame and sits on the edge of one of the stools. He looks over at her and he still can't believe how stunning she is. "You look really beautiful," his hand gently tugs her closer by her wrist. "Like an angel," he whispers just before pulling her face down to his and kissing her.

"You know when I said I wanted to know everything about you?" She breathes into him. He nods and backs away to look at her in concern. "And I said I wanted you to know," she smiles, "_almost_ everything about me?"

He nods again and brings his hands up to cup her face between them.

"You still want to know?" she whispers to him almost at her most vulnerable.

Lucas turns those caring blue eyes of his on her, "Yeah," he says and pulls her down into his lap, "I do. But only if you're ready, okay?" He curls a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm not trying to rush you or make you feel like you cant talk to me. I know we're different and I know we still have a lot of things to talk about. But I just want you to know," his face turns serious, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay," she replies so light it's barely audible.

"Are you okay with me spending my night with Peyton in here?" he searches her face for anything to tell him otherwise.

"I trust you," she presses her forehead to his. "I'm sorry I went to Cotillion with Nathan, it should have been you."

"It doesn't matter now," he shakes his head.

"Why not?" She asks confused, "Skills said you were upset because—"

He stops her, "You're here now aren't you? Who cares about anything else." He lifts his chin and captures her lips with his. "Wait one second," he smiles against her mouth then hops up to his feet and goes into the back of the café.

She stands at the counter curious and when the lights dim and the overhead music starts to play, she smiles. This is exactly the kind of stuff that makes her love Lucas. Nathan could never forgive her so quickly or be so romantic. Only a fool would think otherwise.

When Lucas comes out into the café again he wears a giant grin on his face, "May I have this dance?" He holds a hand out to her and she slides her fingers into his.

"I love you," she whispers.

It's the third time she's said and it and it still feels like the first. Her heart pounds in her chest and he pulls her to him and looks at her as if she's the only one in the world that matters.

"I love you too," he replies as they sway to the soft music that plays from the speakers at the sides of the café, "_pretty girl_," he whispers.

It's the fifth time he's said it to her and every time he does he means it more than the last. She leans her head on his chest and closes her eyes, she wants to put this moment into memory so that she can remember it forever. Because her day had sucked so bad but dancing with this boy in this café at this late hour…

Nothing else matters.

---x---

Her engine can be heard from down the block, and the closer she gets to home the more it feels like an oncoming train wreck. Her Comet seems so out of place in a neighborhood full of suburban four-door sedans with the occasional mini-van or pick-up truck here and there. But she's used to feeling out of place.

When her car rolls to a stop in the driveway, she feels exhausted from the day's events. Playing the good-girl role with Lucas was beginning to ware thin and the more he talked the more she realized how one dimensional he was. But their time spent hadn't been all that bad. They have a lot in common. Sometimes it was almost as if they had _too much _in common. And yet they are complete opposites.

Because he is pure and she's tainted. He's white, she's black.

So she guesses that made Brooke the shaded gray area. Neither this or that. She's not innocent but she isn't completely evil either. Sometimes when Peyton stops to think about why she has ill feelings towards her supposed best friend, she always finds her mind coming back to the same thing.

That Brooke could fit in almost anywhere whereas Peyton would always be an outsider. A single fact that made up most of the bitter feelings she harbored inside.

"Oh," she flinches when she nearly collides with Nathan on her front steps, "what are you doing here?" She asks with her usual scowl firmly set in place.

Nathan sighs and shrugs his shoulders, "Not really sure yet," he says and rests his wrists on his knees. He's still wearing the expensive tuxedo suit that makes him look more like an upper eastsider than a small town heartthrob.

She rolls her eyes and drops her bag down at his feet before slumping down onto the step beside him.

"You wanna have sex?" he mutters.

She laughs, "Oh yeah, let's do it. Right here, baby."

He chuckles, "Yeah, me either."

She pulls his arm out and over her shoulders and leans into him. He says nothing in return and together they sit and stare out at nothing while they think about everything that haunts them. He hates that Brooke's gotten so far under his skin, and she hates that Lucas isn't like all the other boys at THH.

"How come," she says and looks up at the sky, "it takes so little time for a child who is afraid of the dark to become a teenager who wants to stay out all night?"

He shrugs and she sighs, leaning her head on his shoulder.

When she was eight, she would secretly pray that Brooke's parents would fight so that Brooke would sneak in through her window at night. She didn't like the dark and Brooke would always whisper made up stories about dragons and kidnapped princesses.

And then as Peyton got older, she couldn't wait for the dark.

"What are you thinking about?" she whispers to him.

He's annoyed that she's broken the silence between them but fights back a sour retort and instead says, "Nothing."

"You look nice," she mumbles absently and touches the silk handkerchief that pokes out of his breast pocket.

"Thanks," he replies back softly.

She sighs and slides her hand into his jacket and unbuttons his shirt to slip her hand inside. His skin is warm, no—_hot_. She blinks in surprise and pulls back to look at his face and yet he simply stares straight forward.

Clearly something is plaguing his thoughts. But she's not quite sure she even wants to know what it is that's haunting him. Because whatever it is, it's bad enough to make him melancholy. A trait she always thought was respectively reserved for her alone.

"What are you _really_ doing here, Nathan?" she finally ends up asking him out of pure curiosity.

"I…" he stops and rubs a hand over his tired face. "I don't feel like being alone tonight."

"Nathan Scott," she rasps in utter disbelief, "since when are you _ever _alone?"

He doesn't quite have a response for that.


	23. Love Is A Fast Song

AN: Thank you all for continuously being awesome!

---x---

**Part 2: **_**Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 22 - **_Love is a fast song_

**Junior Year**

_**February 20**__**th**_

He's in the kitchen pouring cereal into a bowl when his cell phone starts ringing. It's only 8am so he knows it's not Brooke. His girlfriend loves sleeping in. Instead he sees Peyton's name on the display and he chuckles. She's as much of an early bird as he is.

"Hey Peyt," he says into the phone, "you're up bright and early."

The blonde laughs on the other end. "Yeah, I'm trying to get everything ready for my dad's return this afternoon. And I'm actually calling to hear if you can help me out for an hour or so."

Unconsciously glancing at his wristwatch he thinks that Brooke won't be up for at least another three hours. He's planning to go see her later because he feels like they need to 'mend things'.

They had been good on Friday night after cotillion but that was mainly because they avoided talking about all that had been said before Peyton left his mom's café. Saturday morning had been almost normal with them staying in his bed until lunchtime, but as soon as they left the warmth of the covers, things had suddenly felt tense, and he had just felt that there had been a lot of stuff that Brooke didn't say before she left.

Last night they hadn't talked at all. Brooke had dinner with her grandma before the woman left to go back to New York and he had spent some much needed time with Haley. For some reason neither him nor Brooke had called to say goodnight to the other.

Deep down he knows that they're still both feeling a little disappointed and frustrated with the past week and he plans to make that right again today.

Later, when Brooke has had a good night's sleep.

"How can I be of service Miss Sawyer?" he says and pours milk over his Fruit Loops. "I'm kind of handy, you know?"

Peyton chuckles. "Well, I'm trying to put up this shelf that he bought but never finished. I could use a handyman to help me. At least to hold one end while I'll hammer the nails into the wall."

With his mouth full of cereal, Lucas protests.

"Hey, I'll do the hammering. You'll end up hurting yourself." He swallows the sugary concoction. "Just give me a minute to finish my breakfast and I'll be right over."

Peyton's voice is unusually soft when she answers, "Thanks Luke. I knew I could count on you."

---x---

"Little B," Owen smiles as Brooke walks down the stairs from her shared room in Rachel's house.

"Big O," she winks back, "what's up?"

"You tell me, girl," he motions her over.

Brooke's brow creases curious, "What are you talking about?"

"Nathan told me what went down at Cotillion," he frowns.

Her eyes roll, "I should have known."

"Known what?" Rachel trots back into the living room from the kitchen and drops into Owen's lap. Her eyes move from one face to the next as she waits for someone to answer her.

"Oh, just that Nathan and Owen gab like a couple of girls," Brooke shrugs.

"I could have told you that," Rachel grunts and Owen lets his head hit the back of the couch with a groan.

"Why do I drive 123 miles every other damn day just to be treated this way?" He asks no one and Rachel leans over and whispers in his ear. "Oh yeah, I remember now." He grins and she shakes her head.

"I'm going to take a shower, I ordered some breakfast pizza so get the door when it gets here, kay?" Rachel announces and stands on her feet. "Money will be on the counter, B, please make sure Owen does not pay for the food," she looks to Brooke.

Owen rolls his eyes and Brooke looks up at Rachel curiously, "Okay?"

She sighs and crosses her arms, "I lost a bet and so therefore I have to do something for Owen that he loves. And he _loves _him some meat-lovers pizza," she grunts and both girls wrinkle their noses. "Don't worry, I got us something less cannibal."

"The breakfast pizza doesn't count, _sweet butt_," Owen mutters as he flips through TV channels.

Rachel glares in return, "You know I hate when you call me that, Owen!" She growls and snatches the cordless phone from the coffee table. "And it counts." She snaps and storms upstairs in a tantrum.

"What's up her slutty ass?" Brooke asks and brings her legs up to drape them across Owen's lap.

He doesn't mind in the least that he's being used as a foot ataman, he's grown up with three sisters and has a girlfriend who treats him like her favorite lazy boy chair. Even when Brooke wiggles her toes in his face, he doesn't flinch. He just continues to watch Sports Center on EPSN and pushes her feet out of the way.

"She lost a bet," he answers her.

"What bet?" Brooke asks and gets annoyed when his attention is more focused on the TV than on her. "Owen!" She digs her foot into his side, "What bet?"

"Ow! Damn, Brooke that hurt!" He shouts and rubs his ribs in pain. Brooke's face remains firm and he groans. "Trust me B, you don't wanna know the bet."

Brooke flies up into a sitting position and scoots in closer, "Oh now I _have _to know." She scoffs. "Did you really think saying that was going to make me any less interested?"

He grimaces at his mistake, "Yeah it was one of those things you do and then immediately afterwards regret?"

"Owen…" Brooke's tone is dry and impatient. She sets her sight on him and blinks her hazel eyes several times, "_Owen…_" she begins to whine.

"Damn I hate when you do that," he grimaces, "fine, _fine!_" he complains. "Gosh you remind me of my sister Dani, I swear it's like you're possessed by her sometimes."

Brooke rolls her eyes, "Your lips are moving but I ain't hearing anything worth listening to." She crosses her arms.

"Fine, I'll tell you but you gotta promise not to get all butt hurt afterwards. Because I warned you," he points a finger in her face. She waits patiently and he sighs, "Rachel and I made a bet about Cotillion. She bet that you and Nate would hook up, and I bet that you wouldn't." He shrugs.

She stares at him for fifteen whole seconds and Owen wonders what she's thinking. He's waiting for her to hit him, because it's something Dani would do and it's _definitely _something Rachel would do. But instead, she shocks him by throwing her arms around him and hugging him genuinely.

"What was that for?" he asks when she pulls away.

"For betting that we wouldn't," she grins.

He grunts and shakes his head turning serious. "Look, little B, we gotta talk about this thing you got going with Preppy."

"What thing? There is no 'thing,'" she scoffs, "not anymore at least." She admits with a nonchalant shrug.

Owen is not convinced, "I see the way you two look at each other. Don't bullshit me on this, B. I play nice with Lucas because I have to. But suffer no delusions, I'm '_Team Nate_,'" he tells her.

She almost chokes she's so stunned, "_What?!_ Team Nate—but I thought… you said…" She shakes her head unable to form a single thought.

"I would never ask you this if I didn't seriously think it needed to be asked, okay?" He says and takes a deep breath before speaking again. It makes her nervous. "But are you _sure _Lucas is the one you want to be with?"

"What kind of question is _that_ Owen? How dare you even ask me that!" Her voice starts to climb higher and higher. "Of course he is! I can't believe you would even question me after everything I've gone through to be with him!"

"Chill out, Brooke. It's not a big deal, alright? I didn't ask it to upset you or make you get all worked up. I just genuinely want to know."

At this, Brooke flies off the handle, "Did he put you up to this? Huh? Tell me Owen! You tell me right now if Nathan is trying—"

"He's not!" he shouts back at her, "but he's my friend, Brooke—and so are you. I just want to know if you're happy?"

Her eyes widen at his ludicrous accusation. She has no words for him because she doesn't want to hear what he has to say. Why does _no one _seem to believe that what she feels for Lucas is real?

"I don't believe you," she shakes her head upset. "You know what Owen? This is a real asshole thing to do. I'm not going to sit here and listen to this, either," she stands up to leave.

"Brooke, don't go," he groans, "come back."

She does as he ask but not in the way he had hoped. Instead she looks like a bull getting ready to charge towards a long red cloak. She's in his face in seconds and even though she is barely past five feet he feels as if she's towering over him like a chastising mother.

"Don't be mad," he sighs.

"Owen," she grounds out through gritted teeth and takes a step away to gain some control of her raging emotions. "Do you have any idea how much _shit_ I have to take to be with Lucas?"

He doesn't respond because he can tell by the look in her eyes that he is not meant to. His gaze subconsciously moves to the stairs in hopes that Rachel will come down and save him from this conversation. He really hadn't meant to upset Brooke, it was just one simple question!

"I can't take him with me whenever I go up to Duke. I can't take him with me to family dinner's. I can't do the things with him that I wish I could. If I could, I would have taken _him_ to Cotillion. _Not _Nathan, and I'm sorry if that's not what you want to hear, but it's the truth. I don't care if you're 'Team Nate' or if you like Lucas or not. Because none of that matters, Owen. I love Lucas. I don't know how many times I have to say it before it gets through your head and everyone else's."

"Alright, geez! Stop yelling at me!" Owen cringes and holds his arms out to block her dagger throwing eyes.

"This isn't funny, Owen!" she yells and punches his shoulder as hard as she can.

"Ow! What was that for?" he grimaces in pain.

"It really hurt me the first time you dissed my relationship with Lucas in front of the entire Sigma Nu house," she replies in a softer tone, "but having you do it again in my own home?" she shakes her head.

"Technically," he rubs his thumb over his right brow, "this is Rachel's house…" he shrugs.

He's trying to be cute, trying to lighten the mood. But it's not working and he knows he's just digging himself in deeper and deeper into the shithole he's stuck in. But it's like word vomit, it just keeps coming out.

"Damn, B," he grumbles and smashes his face into his hands, "I'm not trying to fight with you, alright? I just asked you a question. One that you've answered and now we can move on."

"But that's just the thing, Owen! I'm sick and tired of answering everyone's stupid 'questions' all the time! I'm so freaking sick of it that I'm almost to the point where I don't want to hang out with any of you anymore!" she shoves her fingers into her hair.

"Don't get so damn dramatic, B, seriously. I get it, alright? You love the guy and I love you. So if you say he's the one then okay. He's the one." His arms lay dormant down at his sides. "Are we cool?"

The sudden knock at the door makes her flinch, her nerves are so wound up she's not sure she can move. Owen's eyes don't leave her and the pressure in her chest grows tighter, she can barely breathe. The knock grows more insistent and in her frustration she flings the door open.

"_What?!_" She screams at the person on the other side of the door.

"P-Pizza delivery for R-Rachel?" The young boy stutters nervously.

"Money's on the counter," Brooke mutters to Owen and grabs her purse and keys by the door before she slips out to her car.

She doesn't realize until half way down the street that she's still in her pajamas and starving because she hasn't eaten breakfast yet. She contemplates the pros and cons of turning back around to Rachel's house for food and clothes. But her pride gets the best of her, and instead she's driving towards the house with the red door.

Owen is right. Technically, Rachel's house isn't her home.

---x---

"So you're sure it's straight?" Lucas mumbles with his mouth full of nails. "One's this sides up, it's pretty much a done deal."

Peyton smiles and nods. "It's good enough. My dad's not gonna notice if it's a little crocked."

He shrugs and hammers in the last two nails. Then he steps down from the chair he's been standing on and eyes his work. Peyton's right. It's good enough at least.

Putting down the hammer and left over nails he glances at the clock on the kitchen wall. It's past eleven already and he can't believe that they've been struggling with the shelf for over three hours. Or actually two. The first hour and a half, Peyton had him help out with a jammed window and then he had looked over something in the engine of her car that sounded funny.

And even though he hadn't planned on staying this long he can't deny that it feels good to be needed. With Brooke it seldom felt that way because his brunette girlfriend was so independent.

"I guess that's it," he says and wipes his hands off on his jeans. "Unless there's more housework you're planning on having me doing." He winks as if to show that he's only joking and Peyton smiles.

"I really mean it Lucas," she says and reaches out to touch his arm. "Thanks for helping me. You didn't have to, especially not since I caused all that trouble between you and Brooke the other night."

She looks guilty and he frowns.

"What do you mean, Peyt?" he asks confused.

Her eyes fall to the floor. "I know that you and Brooke started fighting because you'd been hanging out with me. I never meant for that to happen. Maybe you and I shouldn't hang out so much..."

She sounds sad for real and he quickly shakes his head.

"Come on, Peyton. Me and Brooke fighting, that wasn't at all your fault. I was wrong to avoid Brooke last week instead of telling her how I felt. And she was just upset in general because her evening had been shitty. None of us meant to take it out on you."

The blonde in front of him glances up again. "So you two are okay?" she asks carefully. "I know that you two have had issues lately."

He shrugs but holds back the sigh that is about to slip from him because he doesn't want Peyton to feel guilty about any of this.

"You're right. We've had issues," he answers honestly. "But not because of you. Brooke and I are just very different from each other and we're both new at this. Actually I'm the one that should be thanking you." He runs a hand through his hair, "It was nice to have someone to talk to last week. It's easy to talk to you."

Peyton's hand rub his arm one more time before she lets it fall down to her side.

"Anytime Lucas Scott," she says. "Any time."

For some reason the smile that she gives him makes him feel a little weird. Lately she's been treating him different. She's being much nicer to him, and not in that fake way that she kept up when he first joined the Ravens. Lately it feels real. He's just not sure in what way.

Maybe he's just imagining it all?

"Well, I have to go," he mumbles, suddenly feeling a little confused. "Uhm, I promised that I'd – uh – take the lunch shift at the café."

Peyton nods and follows him to the door.

"I'll see you in school tomorrow," she says casually. "Say hi to Brooke from me."

For a second he thinks that he sees a hint of a smirk on her face at the end of that last sentence. Or maybe he's just imagining that too.

---x---

The sky is clear for once, Nathan feels as if he hasn't clearly seen the sun amidst a clear blue sky in ages. Not even a single gloomy cloud blocks his view and as he walks up the drive towards the Sigma Nu quarters, he can feel the warmth of UV rays against his back. It feels great despite his mood and he thanks God for not matching the weather to his current state of mind.

Then suddenly the front door bursts open and outcome six well-built college football players. Tyler is among them but he doesn't see Nathan at first and instead chats animatedly to one of his frat brothers. Football in hand, he squeezes the pigskin between his palms and flexes his sleeveless arms. Staring forward he finally sees Nathan who still stands somewhere between the house and his SUV.

"Hey, Prep! What you doing here?" a grin makes its way over his face, "Haven't seen you around in a few days. What? You get burnt out already, bro?"

"Nah," he shakes his head and nods at the rest of the guys.

"We're all about to go play some ball, man you should come. Shit, have you seen this weather? It's fucking beautiful out here! I don't think it's been this nice out since September!" he chuckles and slaps a hand onto the younger guy's shoulder.

"Nah, I'm good, bro."

"You aight?" Tyler questions skeptically. When Nathan doesn't immediately answer Tyler tosses the ball over his head to one of the other guys on his team and tells them he'll catch up.

"Talk to me, Preppy," Tyler motions to the front porch and sits down on the first concrete step.

"Nothing to say," he mumbles and rubs his hands over his tired face.

"Hey man," Tyler pats his shoulder brotherly, "you can talk to me. I know I may not be as eloquent or understanding as big O but…"

"No, it's not that," Nathan laughs softly, "I just came here to get away for a while is all."

The college running back nods and leans forward to cross his arms over his knees casually, "I can see you have something you want to get off your chest, Prep. So… you gonna tell me what's up?"

He sighs, "You were right."

Tyler chuckles, "I usually am," he lies with a smirk, "but for now you mind refreshing my beautiful mind in this case?"

Time passes and Nathan grimaces as he fights an inward battle against himself. He can't keep denying how he feels or trying to ignore what's blatantly right there in front of his nose. If he's learned anything from Cotillion, before, during and/or after…

It's that there's no use lying to himself. Or anyone else for that matter.

"She's not my girl anymore," he mumbles.

Just like that, it's out there. The truth's been set free and as much as he would love to say the weight has been lifted from his shoulders, he can't. Now he just feels a huge pressure in his chest and an intense tightening in his stomach and shoulders.

Tyler doesn't need to be reminded of what he's right about anymore. He knows, and for a few intense moments he wishes he didn't.

"I'm sorry, bro," he pats the other guys shoulder, "you wanna disappear in a cloud of smoke and drown in a sea of women?" he offers like the good friend that he is.

"Nah, man I'm cool," Nathan sighs deeply and slumps against the railing. "No amount of partying, drinking or girls can make this go away. I'm done pretending, I'm done with all of it."

"Thank God, I'm exhausted," Tyler laughs.

Nathan flinches in shock, "I thought—"

"It was all for you, Prep. I mean, don't get me wrong. I enjoy the life, shit yeah I do. But even _I _need a break every now and then." He shakes his head at Nathan's stunned expression.

"Why me?" he asks.

"What?"

"I don't get it," he scoffs, "why are you all so willing to do things like that for me? _Me_ of all people. I'm not a even a Senior in high school yet."

"I think it's cuz we all see a bit of ourselves in you," he pokes him in the chest, "imagine what we'd all be like if we had a house full of guys looking out for us like big brothers? We all look out for our own, and like it not, Preppy… you're one of us."

"But _why?_" he just can't understand it.

"Why not?" he shrugs, "Just be grateful, you little shit. We got mad love for you, Prep. You'd do the same for us, I know you would. Why question something when there's no reason to? Just be glad you got us to man your back, bro."

"Yeah," he nods, "you're right, thanks."

"You're welcome," he laughs, "you're good people, Nathan. We don't let anyone in this house otherwise, you feel?"

Again, he nods his head.

"Yeah you're young, but so are Brooke and Rachel. Yet all three of you have the soul and personality of someone twice your age. You're all a bunch of jaded ass motherfuckers sometimes, you know that? Brooke can fit in with anyone, it's just who that girl is. She's fly, man. And Raye? Girl can hold her own, which is why she's a perfect fit for Owen."

"And me?"

"You balance us out, man," Tyler laughs and slaps a hand onto his back, "plus," he pauses to smirk, "you're the only one we trust not to break little B's heart."

---x---

She cuts right to the chase the moment he opens his back door leading to his bedroom. Once the words spill free from her lips he blinks down at her in surprise and she shoves past him to enter his room. Lucas shuts the door behind her and turns around to stare at her in confusion.

"What?" he says to her and shakes his head clear.

Going against everything that she's ever preached before, she repeats herself, "Why weren't you answering my calls this past week?"

Lucas clears his throat nervously, "I was giving you space."

And just like that, she goes off like a lit match to a firework wick. She sizzles for a moment, the flame making its way down to her core before the inevitable explosion. Lord help anyone in her way.

"_Space?!_" she shrieks. "Are you fucking _kidding_ me right now, Lucas? Why would you give me '_space_'? Did I ask you for space?"

He shakes his head.

"Did I imply to you that I needed—"

"Yeah, actually," he interrupts her, a first in their entire relationship, "I'd say when you shoved me behind a wall so that your grandmother wouldn't see—"

"She's a bitch, Lucas! I was only—"

"Don't interrupt me," he growls out with a slight snarl.

Stunned and utterly speechless, she takes one attentive step away from him.

"Are you ashamed of me?" he asks. "I mean," he scoffs, "would you prefer if I were someone like Nathan?"

His question makes her heart stop. The breath leaves her lips and never comes back. Her entire body freezes up and she stands there paralyzed.

"Lucas…" she shakes her head sadly at him.

"It just feels as if you wish I were someone else," he confides in her, "and I can't tell you how badly that hurts."

"No, Lucas," her throat tightens, "I _love_ you, okay? More than I ever thought I could love someone," her hands reach out to clench the front of his shirt in her fists.

"I'm not saying that you don't love me," he sighs and rubs a tired hand over his face, "it just seems like how we feel about each other doesn't matter. Like a part of you wishes I were someone else and not the bastard child of Dan Scott."

She gasps, how could he ever think that?

"That is not true," she shakes her head, "not even close."

"You have this whole other side to you," he places his hands over hers on his chest, "and I'm getting really tired of trying to break down those walls you have pulled up so tight around you. It's like every time I try to get through to you, you clam up and push me away."

"But I'm _trying_ to let you in," she tells him and even as she says this she knows it's a lie. "I'm not pushing you away, Lucas. There's just a lot of different parts of me to understand. It's too much to take all at once."

"I love you, Brooke," he frowns as he says this rather than smiles like he usually does. "But that's not enough, is it? At least, not enough to get you to actually _talk_ to me."

That last bit sounds hostile, she drops her hands from him and takes a step back. His eyes look down at her different. They have a gleam that was not there before, a shield that makes her feel alienated.

She's walking a fine line between remaining strong and falling apart altogether. Tears well up in her eyes and she squeezes her eyes shut to keep them locked inside.

"Where is all of this coming from? You talk about me holding back? Look at yourself, Lucas! How long have you been holding back all these feelings from me?"

"I was feeling just fine until you decided to separate yourself from me when it came to anything too personal. I brought you into my life because I care enough about you to want you to be a part of that. But you shut me out of yours, Brooke. That's not fair." He shakes his head at her disappointed.

Guilt sets in on both people but Brooke refuses to say anything else. She knows he's right but she also knows that letting him will send him running for the hills. Her life is not at all worth sharing. Which is why she shares with no one.

No one but the select few who understand her without explanation. Rachel, because she is another part of Brooke herself. Peyton, because they grew up together and it was inevitable that Peyton be tuned in.

And Nathan, because he just... _knows her. _

The realization that she can literally count on one hand the amount of people in her life who truly know her and still have fingers to spare, sends Brooke into an internal frenzy. Lucas can see the stress lines form over her brow and he hates that he is the cause.

"I didn't mean to make you feel as if I'm dumping all these sudden feelings on you. But I just feel like we should talk about some of this stuff before—"

"Before what?" she shouts angry, "before you decide I'm not worth it anymore?"

Lucas pauses in complete shock, "What? No! Why would you think...?"

"What am I supposed to think, Lucas?" her voice shakes, "You come at me with all these _feelings_ you've been keeping from me and..." she shrugs, "I just don't understand how I'm supposed to feel right now."

"I don't want you to feel like I'm attacking you with all of this, it's just that Peyton said—"

She freezes at the mention of the curly blonde, "Peyton?" she scoffs in disbelief. "You know what Lucas?" she shakes her head slowly side to side, "I haven't said anything about your and Peyton's newfound 'friends' or whatever, but honestly? Now I'm starting to really get pissed off."

"Oh _you're_ pissed?" he laughs in a way that makes her back up a step. "You know what Brooke? She is the only one who's been around lately, you haven't. You've been shutting me out and she's been trying to help me get through that."

"Oh," Brooke's haughty laugh makes Luke grimace, "well okay then! I mean, God forbid you come to _me_ with the issues you have against me. Why not discuss them with my quasi-best friend. You want to know something Luke? Peyton isn't who you think she is."

"I am so sick…" he sighs and rubs his hands over his face, "Look, my friendship with Peyton is no different than your friendship with Tyler. In fact, if you want to get technical? You and Tyler act more inappropriate than me and Peyton. Because she and I are strictly platonic, but you and Tyler?" he snorts.

"That is such bullshit!" she shrieks, "Are you _kidding_ me right now? Have I ever given you reason—"

"Before you and I were official you were seeing someone else," he exclaims, "how do I know it wasn't him? How do I even know if you're still not seeing him? With the way you keep things from me I wouldn't put it past you."

She gasps shock and just stares back at him without uttering one single word in response. Nothing like this has ever happened between them, and Lucas can honestly say he's never been more ashamed of himself.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "about what I said. I didn't mean it," he reaches out to touch her and cringes when she backs away, "I just get so jealous sometimes. It's like you have this whole other life that I'm not a part of. I want to be in your life, Brooke. All of it, not just some of it. I assumed Peyton knew you best and would know how to get you to open up to me. I never meant…" he pauses. "I love you, Brooke. But sometimes you make me feel like…"

"Like what, Lucas?" she snaps.

"Like…" he sighs and shakes his head, "never mind. I don't want to fight with you."

"Then stop treating me like I'm the world's worst girlfriend! I told you when we first started this relationship that this was going to be hard for me, Lucas! I've never done this before."

"Me either, okay? I just… gosh, it's so hard sometimes. We're so different." She gasps and he pulls her towards him, "I didn't mean that in a bad way," he touches her cheek, "I love that we're so different."

"Then why…" she shakes her head confused.

"Because you scare me, okay!" he turns away to stare at the wall, "It's like I'm not myself when I'm around you sometimes. I feel all these weird emotions that I'm not used to and I get so jealous sometimes because I feel like I don't fit in with your…"

"With my what, Lucas?" she pulls him back around to face her.

"With your life," he tells her.

"Well you scare me too," she whispers back and ducks her head slightly.

"Hey," he cups her chin with his fingers and brings her face back up to meet his eyes, "talk to me, Brooke."

"I'm never going to…" she pauses and takes a deep breath. "I just…"

He obviously waits for her to continue and suddenly she feels stupid. She feels like she's sounding pathetic, needy and not at all like herself. She's just not good with these deep talks about feelings. So she does what she's good at instead. She _shows_ him how she feels about him.

The first kiss she places on his lips is gentle, almost shy. And just as she expects, he seems hesitant. _He_ wants to talk, that's just how he works, but at least he doesn't pull back so she takes that as a sign to deepen the second one.

"I just love you so much," she mumbles and lets her fingers run up the skin on the back of his neck and up into his blonde hair. "I'm sorry," she whispers and trails kisses down his jaw, "You're right, I really don't want us to fight anymore."

It's not like she's deliberately trying to distract him from their conversation. Really, she's not. She's just so tired of having to defend herself, their relationship and everything surrounding it. She just wants to have that safe feeling that she usually has with Lucas.

"You know I'm here for you, right Brooke?" he mumbles and his hands travel up her thighs to circle around her waist. "That you can talk to me?"

She nods. Captures his lips again and makes sure to kiss him in a way that leaves him breathless.

The slight hesitance that he first showed when she kissed him is gone now and he leans back against his bed's headboard, pulling her down with him. He meets her kisses, trails ones of his own down the column of her neck and his breath fans against her skin.

"Truce?" she whispers and one hand slides down his chest and abs towards the buckle on his belt.

He sucks in a breath and leans his head back. And his voice is soft when he answers,

"There was never even a war."

---x---

**February 22****nd**

Her fingers are black from the charcoal she's been furiously smearing across the pad in her lap. There are a million things going on in her mind but they always seem to quiet down when she's working on her art. Her music blasts out from the speakers over by her closet and if her dad were here he'd yell at her to turn it down. But he's not, so she's alone and there is no one to tell her what to do.

Her brow creases as she shades in a particular part of her drawing and when she's done she pulls back to look at what she's made. She hates it instantly but she can't crumble it because it's how she feels. There are three people in the picture, two are meant to be and one is in the way.

She drops her shader and reaches for a red color pencil before she starts in on coloring the two burning red hearts. She hates how talented she is, because as much as it's a gift it's also a curse. It's a pain in the ass to constantly have random vivid images pop into her head at odd times of the day. Her fingers itch and twitch until she can get her hands on something to help set them free.

Peyton trades the red pencil for a dark yellow and presses it into the pad so hard it breaks in half. In a fit if anger she hurls it across the room and snatches a similar tint and goes back to her picture. When she's done she stares down at an image she's drudged up from her subconscious. She tosses it to the side and gets up to grab her phone.

"Hey," she says into the receiver and pushes a curl back from her face unknowingly smearing charcoal on her cheek. "What are you doing?" she asks innocently.

She doesn't know what she's doing. But she can't get him off her mind, she tries so hard to think of anyone else but him but she can't. No matter how many times he tells her no she ignores him and tries, tries, tries again. He says he can't see her when she asks him to come over. She asks why and he tells her she knows why.

"But I have to see you," she almost cries, "_please_," she begs him.

"Peyton, no," he sighs, "you and I both know the timing isn't right."

"But what does it matter if we're meant to be together?" She whispers painfully, "you can't tell me you don't feel it. I know you do, stop denying it!"

"I have to go," he mutters softly, barely able to choke it out.

"No," she shakes her head, "don't say that. I'm coming over." She grabs her jacket.

"Don't," he sighs into the phone, "Peyton, do not come over." His tone is final. "Just let it go, _please. _It hurts too much, okay? I can't do this anymore, it's not right. I'm going to hang up now." He says and then there's a click.

Her heart is hammering in chest. In her distress she makes a choice. Knowing she's making a huge mistake she storms out her room and stomps down the stairs. She tears open her front door and goes to the one place everyone in this town seems to go to when they need to clear their heads.

Because her heart won't slow down and no art in the world can't make it stop.

---x---

She swings her toeless black heels back and forth over the side of the couch and sighs as she lounges around in the living room of Rachel's house. The skirt to her little dark purple dress rides up her thighs higher and higher the more she swings her feet, but for the moment she doesn't care. She's just shared one giant blunt with Rachel and she's feeling nice and tingly. The clock on the wall reads eleven past ten and the digital timer on the cable box below the big screen says the same thing.

Which makes Owen exactly 41 minutes late.

"Why aren't you worried?" Brooke frowns and flings her legs back over the couch to sit properly. "I mean, Owen is like, _never_ late."

Rachel rolls her eyes from her spot on the other end of the couch and slaps her small compact mirror shut after rolling clear gloss over her lips. "He's not that late."

"41 minutes?" Brooke scoffs.

"Technically he just said he'd be here _around _ten. I just told you 9:30 so that I was sure your ass would be ready on time," she smirks.

"Bitch!" Brooke huffs.

"Chillax, he's almost here. He texted me like ten minutes ago and said he was a half hour away," she shrugs with a lazy smile.

"Which means I have to sit here with you until then? Great," Brooke mutters.

"Yes, because sitting beside _you_ is such a honor," Rachel rolls her eyes and stands up from the couch. "Come on, I have an idea. Let us carry this thrilling conversation into the kitchen."

With a long drawn out groan, Brooke pushes to her feet and follows the clack of Rachel's heels. Then she sees her pull out a bottle of Grey Goose and two double shot glasses.

"Let's play a game," she giggles huskily.

Brooke knows that laugh.

"Bitch, don't you game-giggle me. I am not here for your entertainment," she pouts but still reaches out to take the shot glass filled to the brim with Vodka.

If her head wasn't also so full to brim with thoughts on how to open up more to Lucas, she might have realized exactly how stupid it is to accept the alcohol. But her mind is boggling at the moment, straining to stay clear after the blunt she's just smoked, and instead she just stares at the clear liquid.

Rachel laughs. "A toast," she says before she raises her glass and pauses.

"To…?" Brooke urges impatiently.

But the redhead is not disturbed, "To your utter devotion to a boy less worthy."

Brooke scowls and lifts her glass, "To letting go of inner inhibitions."

"I can drink to that," Rachel nods and together they both toss their shots back and slam their glasses down onto the counter.

"_Damn_," Brooke grimaces and sips from the small cup of cranberry juice Rachel offers her.

"Lightweight," she snickers.

"Excuse me?" Brooke scoffs.

Rachel shrugs, "You never used to need a chaser before."

"Pour me another," Brooke growls in an effort to meet the underlying challenge.

She tosses back the next shot and feels the burn of the cool liquid run down her throat. Shit, Rachel's right. She never used to need a chaser before, but right now her fingers are tingling to grab that glass and take a swallow. Instantly she feels her head start to hum with an all too familiar buzz.

"It's okay, B," Rachel replies and pours herself a shot, "I mean, I get it. You're with Lucas now and he doesn't drink like a fish. In fact," she circles a finger around the brim of the shot glass, "I'm pretty sure the boy doesn't drink _at all_. Am I right?"

"Your point?" Brooke snaps.

"When was the last time you were… _you? _I mean _really_ you. The one who can take a shot without a chaser and drink most of the guys in the house under the table? Where's the girl who never turns down a chance to party in Durham or _at all _for that matter? Just tell me, Brooke. How many Raven parties have you skipped to stay home with Lucas?"

"I don't know," Brooke shrugs, "who cares? They're a dime a dozen."

"And how many Sigma Nu parties have you skipped out on to hang around Tree Hill with Lucas? Seriously, what do you two even _do_ around here anyways? Besides drinking—which I know you two don't do—what the hell else is there?" her face twists with puzzlement.

"There are a lot of things, _Rachel_," Brooke snaps.

"Name one," she snorts.

Brooke snatches the shot from out her hand and swallows it.

"Stop being a bitch because you're bored," her words are garbled as the alcohol really starts to take effect.

"Tell you what," Rachel pours herself and Brooke another shot, "you tell me one thing you two do around here besides watch movies or sit around and talk about pointless shit—"

"It's not pointless!" she shouts. "Lucas tells me things about himself that I know he doesn't tell anyone else!"

"But do _you _tell him stuff, Brooke? Because from what I gather… that's a no." Rachel throws back her second shot and brings her head back down to stare at her poor, pointless friend.

Her poor, pointless… _drunk_ friend.

"Are you really done with Nathan, Brooke?" she asks.

"Huh?" Brooke frowns confused.

"Don't think, just answer. Are you done with Nathan?" she pushes.

"Wha? Huh? I don't kn—yeah? _Yes_." She plops down onto her stool and giggles behind a hand. "Wait, what were we just talking about?" she laughs a little louder.

One blunt and three double shots of Vodka makes Brooke a very giggly girl.

Which had been Rachel's plan from the get go. The combination of weed and vodka is like kryptonite to the brunette, instantly creating the desired level of drunkenness that under normal circumstances would take hours.

"Still love Lucas?" Rachel's lips pull up at the left corner of her mouth.

"Uh, yeaaaa—_duh!_" Brooke spasms out all over again in giggles.

"So what did you two talk about the other day?" she asks casually and starts to clean up their glasses and put away their mess. "You came home with a smile but you still seemed a little upset."

Brooke blows air out her mouth in a way that sounds like a motorboat, "I dunno. Luke was just like all asking me weird stuff like why I don't tell him stuff? And then I was like well maybe it's kinda _hard_ for me cuz like, I don't know how to talk about my stuff—hellooo?" she snorts. "Then he—oh!" she hops off of her stool and Rachel's eyes widen.

"What?" she asks.

"I…" Brooke frowns, "What?"

"You were talking about your fight with Lucas and then you jumped up and said _oh!_" she helps her along and fights not to fall out into her own fit of giggles. Damn, Chris always provided them with the best weed on the planet!

"Oh! Yeah!" Brooke slaps her hands together and points at Rachel, "Guess what he said to me? He said that he was talking to _Peyton_ about our relationship! _Peyton?! _Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer. The girl with the blonde curly hair? Ya know?"

Rachel holds back another fit, "Yeah, I've heard her name uttered from time to time."

"Well, then I got all upset because why the hell would he need to talk to _her_ about _us?_ Psh," she throws a hand in the air, "Whatever. I wasn't having that. But then he turns around and starts accusing _me_ of having a thing with _Tyler_ of all people! _Tyler!_ You know? Tall guy at Duke with the really pretty eyes and nice abs and big lips and _really _nice butt and…" she pauses to sigh dreamily. "But anyways," she snaps out of it, "he's crazy."

"Who? Tyler?" Rachel's brow rises.

"No, dummy! Lucas! He's crazy for thinking that I would ever have a thing with Tyler. Especially since Nathan has probably cock-blocked me for life. Speaking of cocks, did you know that Nathan totally acted like an ass at Cotillion? I was trying to be friends, really Raye, I was. But then he had to go and ruin it! _Ruin it!_ Because he is so damn selfish!"

"How did he ruin it, Brooke?" Rachel's interest peaks.

"Raye," Brooke holds up a hand, "do you hear that?"

Rachel cranks her head to listen, "Uh, no?"

"Oh, well I totally thought I heard Owen's truck."

"He has a key," Rachel shakes her head, "now tell me how Nathan ruined it?"

"Because he doesn't know how to be number two," she rolls her eyes. "Oooh, we should totally make cookies right now."

Rachel's mouth waters at the very idea, "We can't, the guys will be here any minute."

"Guys?" Brooke yelps. "Oh my God!" her lips form a perfect O as her eyes pop open wide, "I didn't tell Lucas I was going to Duke tonight! He thinks I'm gonna stay home and watch TV with you. Damn it! Why did I listen to you and say I would go to this stupid thing such last minute! And who is coming to pick us up? Rachel stop playing games!"

"Chill, I'm talking about Owen and Tyler. Nathan isn't coming tonight, I already told you so chill out and close your mouth. You look like a blow up doll. And since when do you need permission from Lucas?" she scowls.

"Shut up!" Brooke shouts. "Brooke Davis doesn't check in with no one, okay?"

Rachel's grin grows, "That's my girl!"

"But," she starts and the grin falls, "I don't want him to worry about where I am."

"Wait," Rachel stops her hands when she reaches for her purse to grab her phone, "do you really think it's a good idea to tell him when you're two sheets to the wind and about to get picked up by Tyler?"

"Good point, but I don't want him to think he can't trust me," Brooke frowns and looks like a five year old pouting. "Having a boyfriend is _so_ _hard!"_ she whines.

"Oooh-_rah_!" Tyler's voice booms throughout the house as the front door bursts open.

The sound instantly brings Rachel back to her childhood origins when she'd hear the same sound echoing from the hallowed halls of Fort Benning, Georgia. It was just one of the many stops on her father's quest to become Army Chief before he turned forty.

"Who's ready to get fucked up ta-night baby!" Tyler rushes into the only lit room in the house and swoops into the kitchen behind Brooke. "B. Davis? Are my eyes deceiving me? Are you _actually_ coming with us tonight?"

"Shut up," Brooke thumps his forehead then falls against him laughing hard enough to choke her.

"Is she…?" Owen asks his girlfriend while he stares at the wobbly brunette.

"I needed her to loosen up so we could… _talk_," Rachel shrugs.

"That's fucked up, Raye," Owen's tone is disappointed as he eyes the bottle of Grey Goose on the counter, fully aware of what kind of cocktail that would put Brooke in this state so early in the evening.

"Yeah, yeah. Ground me later," Rachel rolls her eyes and slips her arms around his neck, "or spank me," she adds devilishly, "I've been a bad girl."

Owen laughs and tightens his hands on her waist, "You certainly have, look at your friend right now."

They both turn to see Brooke and Tyler engaged in what looks like some sort of drunken attempt to get Brooke onto Tyler's back. They both yell out happily when she finally makes her way up there and Tyler sways a few steps forward.

"Drop her and die," Owen growls.

"How much have you had to drink, pony boy?" Rachel asks him amused.

"A little," he replies with half-lidded eyes.

Brooke digs her nose in his neck and takes a huge whiff, "And he was smoking too! Smell's deliciously of burnt trees," she nuzzles him again and giggles. "Giddy up pony boy! To the car!" she leans down to slap his ass then looks over at Rachel to point and mouth, "_See? Nice butt!_"

The four gather their things and head out to the car. Owen rolls his eyes and wishes he were on the same level as the two goofballs laughing it up across the front lawn. But he had to admit that the weed he'd smoked with Tyler on the way over has him feeling pretty nice. Rachel leans over to kiss his lips and winks at him with a naughty twinkle in her eye. He guns the engine, ready to barrel out the driveway in his eagerness to get her into his bed.

He blares his horn to get the attention of Brooke and Tyler, "Let's go!"

Brooke pretends to be scared and Tyler almost drops her on his way over to the car. When she slides off his back he yanks her around by her waist then opens the back door for her and slaps her ass on her way into the truck. She squeals and falls into the seat and smacks Tyler's shoulder as he moves in beside her.

The scene is familiar, it makes Rachel feel as if she has her old Brooke back for a moment. Carefree and laughing loudly. No frowns, no inhibitions. Just happy-go-lucky fun Brooke Davis. She laughs when Brooke and Tyler start to belt out the lyrics to song playing on the radio and rises the volume to sing along.

Owen rolls his eyes but can't hide the smile that forms over his lips, it feels like old times. Like _really_ old times when it was Kellan in the back seat making Brooke wiggle and giggle. He smirks before he slowly backs out of the driveway and notices a familiar looking old red truck parked outside the house. But he only sees this in his rearview mirror and right then Rachel decides to slide her hand up his chest and nibble his ear. She doesn't give the truck much more thought.

But the person _inside_ the Keith's Body Shop company truck? He's given much thought to what he's just witnessed. The cooling hot chocolate on his cup holder sits forgotten beside him. He'd planned to serve it to his girlfriend as a small surprise. A peace offering for a fight that's over and done with but he still felt the need to apologize for.

Pulling out his phone, Lucas dials Brooke's cell and gets her voicemail. Moments later he gets a sloppy text from his drunk girlfriend.

_Cabnt tlk mnow cal u l8r _

Followed shortly by another text: _Luv u!_

---x---

At night the Rivercourt looks strange, as if it isn't real. The tall lamp lights that tower over him to light up the court seem to stare down at him threatening. He shudders at the thought and bounces the basketball in his hands a few times before dribbling it over to the rim to slam dunk it in.

He rebounds effortlessly and spins around backwards to slam it back in again. He repeats the same moves over and over, each time spicing the technique up a bit more, making it more choreographed and flawless. It's as if he's in his own little world, just him, the ball and the court.

"You're pretty good," a familiar female voice compliments him from the shadows.

_Peyton_.

He scowls towards the voice and drops the ball at his feet. The short moment of peace that they shared on her porch after cotillion had quickly evaporated when the blonde decided to ignore him the morning after.

"I wasn't aware I was being watched," he snaps acidly.

"Ohhh, touchy." Peyton chuckles before walking out into the light. "Well now you know." She smirks, "You were being watched."

His scowl deepens, "What do you want?" He barks, still upset at her from the last fight they shared publicly.

"What do _you_ want?" she scoffs, "Because I just came here to relax." She smiles and drapes herself across the nearest bench. "Isn't this _Luke's _little spot though? I mean, I thought you would think hanging out here was beneath you or something." She shrugs.

Nathan drops the ball from his hands and lets it roll off the court, "Cut the crap, Peyt. Just tell me what you want." He scowls.

She rolls over to lay back on the bench and looks up at the stars, "Nothing," she replies taking her iPod out of her pocket and plugging it in her ears, "I told you, I'm here to relax."

He doesn't buy it, in fact he knows exactly why she's here. She thought he was Lucas from far off in the distance. Because she's right, this _is _his spot—or rather, it _was _his spot. Everything so far has gone according to plan.

Haley is putty in his hands after cranking the charm to maximum level during their latest tutor-session, and he has now taken jurisdiction over the Rivercourt. It's only fair, if Lucas wants to hang with his friends, play on his team—screw with his girls—then he's going to show him what it feels like.

It isn't rational, nor is it all that ethical, but Nathan doesn't care. If they're _brothers _then they should _share_. He snorts at the idea of sharing anything with that loser but he has to if he wants to get into the good graces of Luke's 'people.'

It's sad that it's come to this, because every time Nathan sets up another pawn for the checkmate, he feels like Dan. And nothing is worse than feeling like you have part of the Devil inside you. He's pretty sure that not even an exorcism can help him out at this point. He's too far gone.

Pulling up the bottom of his shirt he wipes the sweat from his face and sits down next to Peyton on the bench. She has a smudge on her cheek, probably from the charcoal that she always draws with, and for a short second he actually contemplates wiping it away. But at the last second he decides against it. Even after their two year of on-and-off relationship the gesture suddenly seems too intimate. Instead he watches as she moves her head so that it's on his thigh and then he turns his face up to the night sky and closes his eyes. He doesn't wish on stars, so therefore looking up at them seems slightly hypocritical.

"What happened to us, Peyton?" he asks without thinking.

She pulls one of her ear buds out and looks up at him, "Hello, my name is Nostalgia?" She chuckles lightly.

He rolls his eyes and smashes a hand in her face and she wrestles it away before settling back down. "I dunno," she sighs, "I guess eventually all the shit we used to think was cool just starts to get old. And then by the time we realize we want something new, we're already stuck in that comfortable lie we've lived in for so long."

He blinks down at her in surprise, "Wow, Peyt," he snorts, "that was deep."

"Shut up," she raises a hand upwards to smack him.

She has to admit, she misses their little moments of true intimacy. When they could just sit back and exchange small talk. No snippy one liners, no groping hands or angry scowls covered with hungry mouths that just want to sate a strong longing lust from within. She's not stupid, she knows he uses her just as much as she uses him.

The time when they hung out just to be in the other's presence has long since slipped away. She can hold onto him as long and hard as she wants but she knows he's gone. A part of her will always wonder if she ever had him to begin with. When he looks at her, she knows he sees someone else and when he touches her…

She laughs from her spot in his lap and turns her face into his side. He smells of must and sweat and yet it's a scent she's become accustomed to over the years from dating him for so long. She doesn't mind that she's just a filler for whatever it is he's waiting for, because he's just as much a substitute for her as well.

His hand finally comes down to brush through her curls and she sighs and curves his palm against her cheek, "Why can't it always be like this?" she asks him.

Nathan's thumb slides over her bottom lip and he stares down into her deep blue eyes and says, "You wanna go to that party together after the game tomorrow?"

Disappointment surges through her and yet she answers, "Yeah, sure."

And then they start that vicious cycle of 'comfortable lies' all over again.

---x---

**February 23****rd**

They won the game by a landslide.

97-65 against Sherman Oaks and Nathan rang up at least half that score by himself. But Lucas had scored a lot of those points as well which was probably the reason to why she hadn't been able to talk him out of going to the after-game party. For once Lucas had been the one insisting on attending the celebrations even though the party was being held at Nathan's house.

Usually parties wasn't Lucas' thing but her boyfriend is acting weird in general tonight. The stony expression he's been wearing all day sets off all kinds of alarms in her head. Yet every time she asks, he says that nothing is wrong.

So why then won't he touch her?

Sighing Brooke sips from her cup of rum and coke and slides her chair a little closer to Lucas'. It doesn't help her mood that Nathan is stalking her either. Or that she's still slightly hung over from the party up in Durham the night before.

If she tries really hard, she can at least pretend that Nathan isn't staring daggers into the back of her head. But sometimes when she closes her eyes and leans into Lucas her mind plays tricks on her and it feels like she's with Nathan. She really hates when that happens, because even though she's not cheating on Lucas and she's not sleeping with Nathan anymore—it still feels as if she's doing something wrong.

Which she's not—she knows she not—but she _feels_ as if she is.

"_What do you mean__ you don't _care_?" _Peyton's shrill voice makes Brooke cringe. _"Well fuck you Nathan! I don't need this!"_

"_Yes you do, because you fucking love drama. Why else would you fight with me so damn much?" _Nathan is heard snapping back.

Peyton storms off and Brooke sighs. She should be the best friend and go do damage control but honestly, she doesn't feel like having Peyton yell and scream and call her names because she's mad at Nathan. She's so sick of being her punching bag. Lately more than ever.

"Is Rachel okay?" Lucas' voice brings her out of her thoughts.

Her eyes dart over to where Rachel is clearly ignoring Owen while he stands beside her looking equally irritated. The fight between the redhead and the quarterback have been brewing since Owen showed up at the party and so far she hasn't had Rachel alone long enough to figure out what the drama is _really_ about. But at least when it comes to her redheaded friend she can trust two things. One; that Rachel can manage her boy-issues without Brooke's help and two; that if Owen keeps crowding Rachel's space like that, then the fight will explode. _Soon_.

"I'm sure that whatever it is, they'll work it out within the next three minutes," she mutters and moves closer to Lucas, hoping he'll snap out of whatever mood it is that's keeping him from touching her.

"Yeah," Lucas mumbles softly.

His small voice drives her mad. She's tried playfully teasing him, calling him a party pooper. But that had the opposite effect and now he's drinking. She's not sure that this is such a good thing. He's loosening up, but possibly for the wrong reasons. She can't help but think about everything that Rachel said last night before they got all drunk and disorderly. About how she's not her usual party-self when Lucas is around. And now all of a sudden Lucas isn't himself either.

"Lucas, are you _sure_ you're okay?" she stresses her concern over his behavior but not in the traditional sense. No way is she going to flat out ask him why he hasn't kissed her or showed her any sort of affection all night. She's not _that_ desperate.

Lucas slips his hands into her back pockets and gives her a small smile as if to reassure her that he's fine—that _they're _fine. Then he kisses the top of her head and listens while some of the guys on the team tell him stories about past games. She rests her face into his chest and smiles. He smells like Irish Spring soap with a splash of Axe body spray. She breathes in the wonderful scent while she again tries to convince herself that this distance she's feeling from him is nothing and that Nathan isn't still burning holes in the back of her head with his stare.

Tim and the guys laugh and make jokes but she ignores them. Lucas tries not to chuckle but because he's been drinking he ends up laughing anyways. Slowly she starts to relax, he is after all extremely cute when he does that drunken semi-giggle, and it seems as if the alcohol is loosening him up physically as well because his hand in her back pocket grips her butt firmly as she nuzzles the tip of her nose in the crook of his neck.

He's still acting a little weird but they're getting there.

Three hours later, it's nearly 1 a.m. and just when she's sure she's successfully eluded Nathan for the night, the dark haired Scott-brother catches her eyes and nods upstairs. She shakes her head at him and glares. He knows they don't do that anymore. Beside her at the table Lucas tosses back another shot of Tequila and all around them everyone cheers.

They're playing some stupid drinking game that Brooke finds boring because she's tired and she wants to go home and sleep with Lucas in his bed. Well, and other things. So she ignores Nathan and instead she smiles and leans over to pull Lucas in for a kiss, licking her lips afterwards to taste the alcohol from his mouth. The crowd cheers some more and by then Nathan has made his way over but pauses before anyone can see him.

_I need to talk to you, _he mouths at her and she shakes her head. He pulls out his cell phone and texts her the same thing. She glares up at him after reading the message and excuses herself from the table.

"I'll be right back," she tells Lucas when he drunkenly protests and tries to pull her back down into his lap.

His eyes are red and glossy, his expression goofy and void of any intelligence. Brooke hates to feel responsible for his current state of intoxication. She had been the one to challenge him and tell him to stop being such a party pooper. She didn't know how much her words would affect him. Because now he's three sheets to the wind and horny as hell.

"Rach," she leans to her right and whispers in Rachel's ear, "watch Luke for me okay? I'll be back in a bit."

Rachel looks up and sees Nathan making his way upstairs. "I thought you were done with him?" she growls and rolls her eyes.

"I am, it's not like that," Brooke mutters.

"Yeah, okay," Rachel scoffs.

It's obvious that whatever it is that her friend is pissed at Owen for, the issue still isn't resolved. It's obvious because Rachel is testy as if she's PMSing and if it weren't for the fact that she has to deal with Nathan, she'd _make_ the redhead spill about whatever it is that Owen has done. But for now she settles for glaring.

"I _mean_ it," she says in a serious tone that shuts Rachel up. "Please?"

"Let's see I choose… _Lucas!"_ Peyton shouts and someone hands him another shot. She slaps down a 2 of spades and winks.

They're playing_ Kings_ and Brooke is starting to wonder if Peyton has it out for Lucas. She's been poking fun at him all night and doing anything in her power to get him to be the one to drink the glass in the middle.

"Please Raye," Brooke asks her again and she is right on the verge of begging when Rachel rolls her eyes and waves her off.

"Yeah, yeah. Just go." She frowns and then rolls her eyes a second time when Owen starts to whisper something into her ear.

Brooke hesitates to leave Lucas alone with a table full of popular Tree Hill High ravens. But she trusts Rachel enough to make sure that no one makes him go completely over his limit. Even though Bevin isn't helping matters by calling Lucas a lightweight and Teresa is just a little too close to Lucas for her liking…

Despite all of this Brooke still makes her way upstairs. Maybe it's the desperate look she saw in Nathan's eyes, or the weird vibes of disappointment that Lucas has been sending out all day. Maybe it's some twisted loyalty towards a boy that couldn't even accept her offer to be friends or maybe it's just a case of plain old curiosity. For whatever reason, Brooke opens Nathan's bedroom door and walks into his room.

"What do you want?" Her bored tone is meant to express her utter lack of interest in this meeting and he looks up at her from where he's sitting at his desk.

She hopes to solve whatever it is he wants to talk about quickly so that she can get back downstairs and get Lucas home before he starts to puke. Karen is going to kill her and she feels like an older sibling anticipating their punishment for not setting a positive example. Why had she teased him? If she hadn't encouraged him to drink _one _beer he wouldn't be shit faced now.

"I just thought I'd let you know… we're done," Nathan suddenly blurts.

She blinks back at him in shock and then she starts to laugh. However, it doesn't stop him.

"We had a good run but I'm tired of the games," he mumbles grumpily. "You can play house with Lucas all you want but I'm not one for sharing." He shrugs with a smirk. "I just thought I'd let you know that when you're done downgrading to Lucas, I won't be here to run back to."

She laughs harder this time but she's starting to get really pissed off by his cockiness. "Isn't this conversation a little past its expiration date?" she huffs, "I mean, I've been with Lucas officially for how many months now?" She points over to the door where everyone can be heard yelling and cheering and she hopes Lucas isn't the reason for the sudden outbursts. "It's the real deal."

"Whatever," Nathan grunts. "I guess that's why you offered me that whole 'friendship-deal the other night? To have the best of both worlds?" He rolls his eyes as. "Well, just so you know, I don't appreciate being used as a way to make your little boyfriend jealous," he snaps at her. "Just because I have more money—"

"You did _not_ just go there right now," she scoffs in sheer disbelief.

Nathan stares over at her with that arrogant leer of his and it makes her blood boil. Sure, his ego is wounded and so therefore he's attacking her. And she knows that he's probably still rallied up after fighting with Peyton earlier. But what she doesn't understand is why he feels the need to do any of this. Especially now. They had settled this at cotillion, he didn't want to be her friend and she made it clear once and for all that she wasn't going to cheat on Luke. Nathan still had Peyton. Not to mention all the girls he must have screwed over at Duke.

"You know what?" she starts, "I _did_ ask you to be my friend but you couldn't even do that unless it came with benefits. Which means that you're just a selfish, narcissistic asshole and I'm fed up with this bullshit." She finds the words slipping out of her mouth before she can stop them. She really doesn't want this to turn into a full-blown shouting match but enough is fucking enough. "Maybe I'm the only one to call you on it. But that doesn't mean that it isn't true."

He cringes and he can literally feel his heart starting to beat irregularly by mere awkwardness.

If only Lucas knew how much he understands how he feels when the crowd boo's him out from the stands. If he knew that he as well has a level of insecurities than maybe they wouldn't hate each other so bad. Then again Lucas is dating Brooke and that's all the ammo Nathan needs to keep his hate for the guy alive and strong.

"I'm not the one _pretending_ Brooke," he hisses back at her. "Who I am in front of our friends is _who—I—am_. I don't sit around and act like this perfect little angel. You're the wolf in sheep's clothing Brooke. So don't stand there and mock _me_. Because you need to look in the damn mirror and say it to yourself!"

"Yeah? Well so do you, _Preppy_." She mocks him. "Why don't you think about what you just said the next time you go gallivanting around Durham like you're 'one of the boys' because you're _not_. You're just the little kid brother who likes to tag along."

"And you're just the little team groupie who likes to pretend she's this quaint and innocent version of herself. Well you're _not_. No matter how many times you tell yourself, you're _not_ that girl, Brooke. And being with Lucas doesn't change who you are."

"And I suppose your next suggestion would be that being with _you_ is more appropriate," she scoffs and when he doesn't answer, she takes another step closer to him. "Not going to happen. I'm with Lucas. I _love_ Lucas."

"You make that pretty clear, Brooke. Every day."

He smirks and his tone is sarcastic but there is something else behind it and she suddenly catches a glimpse of worry in his eyes. As if he pities her for her efforts to be someone's girlfriend, like he_ knows_ she'll fail.

It's as if he can read the insecurities that crawl over her skin like an army of ants. She's tempted to slap her hands over her body to rid herself of them, but no matter how hard she scrubbed she knew they'd always be right there. Whispering that she isn't good enough, or pretty enough, or smart enough…

She's more hurt by being pitied by Nathan than by anything else. He, if anyone, should know where she's coming from and how hard it is to please 'the crowd'. He should know _her_. But then again, not even she does anymore.

He keeps looking at her and although she should know that she's setting herself up for another slap in the face, she opens her mouth and asks;

"What is it really that you want from me?" Her voice is much weaker than she wants it to be, "Why the hell did you even bring me up here?"

He sighs and she's not sure who she hates more – herself or him – when the pity in his eyes shines even clearer.

"He's gonna screw you over, you know that right?" he says and gets up from his chair. "Seriously, Brooke. Stop trying to make yourself into someone you're not."

Suddenly she wants to be just as wasted as Lucas is downstairs and she wants to forget that this evening is rapidly going downhill. The day has been too long, actually the whole week is starting to feel endless and she just wants out. So she turns away from the dark haired boy and as she's walking away she sees his stash of Vodka on his dresser. She grabs it and practically turns the glass bottle with booze up-side down in her mouth, downing almost all that is left in there in one big gulp. But it's not enough. She needs more.

"Hey, slow it down!" Nathan rushes over and snatches the bottle away. "What the hell are you trying to do? Drown yourself?" he shakes his head at her frustrated.

"Please do not act like you suddenly care," she scoffs and wipes the back of her hand across her mouth.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, his voice far from what it was just seconds ago, but it's a small peace offering for the shit he's just said to her. Too small.

"Are we done here?"

Her voice is cold now. The burning vodka helps and she just wants to go back to Luke. But Nathan frowns.

"Do you really want to be friends?" he asks in an even softer tone, reaching up towards her face, probably to touch her cheek.

Quickly she shrugs away. She _hates_ pity—he _knows_ that. Which means he must be toying with her right now. She shakes her head to clear her mind and stares down at the Vodka bottle in Nathan's hand.

How _dare he _ask her that _now_.

"Go to hell," she whispers up at him spitefully.

The words oddly prick at him, the usual witty come back feels heavy on his tongue and leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Silently he steps back to let her leave without protest or further argument. His allowing her to leave with the last pointed word is shockingly starting to become a habit of theirs.

The very idea of what that could mean brings the bottle of Vodka to his own lips.

---x---

She's jealous. He's possessive.

And however much she loves him, it doesn't cancel out his flaws. Or the fact that he still drives her absolutely crazy with rage. Because when she's hot—he's cold. When she wants to go—he wants to stay. She says stop and he says go.

With Owen, the rollercoaster is never ending.

He can be so understanding and amazingly sweet. But he's also stubborn and extremely chauvinistic. He was raised in a family where the woman was everything; the mother, the father, the love and the punishment. While Rachel was raised in a family where no one was anything and nothing got done by their own hands.

Owen is compassionate and does things for others, while Rachel is just too damn selfish for her own good. _Period._

"What did I do _this _time, Raye?" Owen shouts into her face furiously as he follows her outside, knowing that the fight which has been brewing all night has finally exploded. "Did I walk in front of you too far ahead? Did some random ass chick check me out and—_oh no!_ Owen must be cheating!" he gasps and covers his mouth with a hand and wide eyes. "Or maybe I just forgot to ask you for permission to fucking _breathe!_"

"You know what? Kiss my ass!" She shoves him away, "Get the hell away from me you son of bitch!" Her hiss is full of unleashed rage. She should be inside right now watching over Lucas like a good babysitter should, but she's just too damn pissed to do so at the moment.

"I'm sorry, I'm confused," Owen scratches the stubble on his chin, "kiss your ass—but get away from you," he weights his options with his hands, "hmm, I just don't know how that is physically possible…" he fakes confusion.

"Are you making fun of me?" Her eyes widen, "do you think this is _funny?_"

"No, I don't. I actually think this is really immature, Rachel." He scowls and turns serious.

"Oh, I'm immature?" She scoffs. "_I'm _immature?"

"Yes! You're acting very immature right now!" He snaps.

"Fuck you, Owen!" Rachel yells.

"Fuck _me?_" He blinks in astonishment, "Seriously? Are you really going to… no," he shakes his head, "you know what? Fuck _you!_" He spits it out like a bad taste. "I'm sick of your shit! It's played out, Raye! And I'm tired of listening to the same bullshit over and over again!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really!" He snarls.

Her hands move to her hips as she narrows her gaze.

He knows that look. He knows it and even though he knows what's coming next he's still not prepared for it. She's about to mind fuck him so hard he'll be left behind nothing but a pile of miserable shit.

When her mouth opens he sucks in a breath and tries to brace himself. But it's never worked in the past so what the fuck would make it any different now?

"Can you at least tell me what the fuck it is that I did before you screw me over?" He snaps out in his own defense. "You at least owe me that."

"I don't owe you _shit!_" She screams. "I'm just '_some girl you're seeing'_ anyways, right Owen? Isn't that what you told your mom on the phone this morning?!" She shrieks. "One year," she starts, "a whole fucking_ year_ and I'm just some_ girl _you're seeing? Really, Owen?" She shoves him in the chest and ignores the pale look on his face in the faint moonlight outside Nathan's house.

"I told you I _loved _you!" She shoves him again, "you tell me to open up and let you in and this is what I get in return? I—" she stops suddenly and her face goes slack, then she reaches up to touch her face in shock.

She's crying. Rachel doesn't cry, she doesn't whine and complain. She especially doesn't care about some stupid _guy_. But he's not just some guy. And she can't even start to pretend that he is because it would just be one vicious lie.

And all Owen can think to say is, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" She whispers back and scoffs.

"Raye, look I—"

"Get your hands off me!" She slaps his hands away from her.

"Baby, don't do this," he replies softly. "You don't understand, alright?"

She doesn't respond and Owen knows if he doesn't say the right thing in the next five seconds she's going to leave him. They've far exceeded their comfort zone and are treading dangerous, shark infested waters. If he doesn't grab a life jacket soon he's going to drown.

"You don't even want to meet my family anyways!" He barks out angrily. "So why are we even having this conversation? Baby, you _know _if I ever even suggested you meet my mother there would be a Rachel sized hole in my door."

She lifts her chin defiant, "You of all people know not to underestimate me, Owen." Her voice shakes, "But you know what? It doesn't really matter anyways," she wipes under her eyes, "because _you_ don't matter."

"Bullshit, I don't matter." He growls. "I _love _you."

Rachel laughs bitterly, "Yeah, okay."

"Hey, where the hell do you think you're going?" Owen grabs her by the wrist and whirls her back around when she tries to walk away.

"I'm on 'Lucas-duty', remember?" she snaps.

"We're not done here," he growls.

"Oh, I think we are," her nails dig into his knuckles to pry him off her. "Get off me, Owen!"

She screams and starts to fight him off but his arms circle her waist and even though her fists are hitting him in the chest as hard as she can, he doesn't care. She loses her footing and slips but he catches her balance easily. She fights against his arms in attempt to get free but still he refuses to let go.

"You lied to me!" She cries out suddenly, "You made me a fool and I _hate _you for it! Do you hear me Owen? _I hate you!_"

"Baby, please," he whispers in her hair and tries to settle the wild cat in his arms. "Please try to understand. My mother…" he pauses, "she's not easy to get along with and my sisters are worse."

"You're embarrassed of me," she slumps in his arms and just about sobs in shame. For a second she realizes that this is how Lucas Scott feels. This is probably how the boy she should be keeping an eye on right now sees it when Brooke keeps him away from her family.

But Owen shakes his head and cradles her face in his hands, "Baby, I couldn't be more _proud_ to be with you. Alright? I love you for who you are, but that don't mean that your parents would accept me. Now would it?"

Rachel hangs her head because what he says is true. And it hurts to think that his family might not accept her. She's not used to these kind of emotions, they makes her feel strange and off balance.

"I hate feeling like this," she frowns, "I'm turning into exactly what I never wanted to be!"

Owen only smiles at her and takes her hands in his, "It's called being in love baby," he kisses her fingers, "and I love you." He whispers.

"Damn it, I love you too," she heaves a sigh and lets him pull her closer. All thoughts about her promise to Brooke earlier flies out the window as she settles against his chest.

This 'being in love' business is harder than she thought. But damn if he doesn't make her forget everything when he wraps her up in his big arms and kisses her senseless with those full lips of his. Telling his family can wait, because honestly…

She really wasn't ready to meet them yet anyways.

---x---

Her heart beats so wildly in her chest that it feels like it's trying to break through her ribcage. Her pulse thumps loudly in her ears and she sprints down the stairs to get as far away from Nathan's room as possible. She needs to get back down to Lucas, her comfort zone.

But halfway she has to stop and take deep breaths of air, because for some stupid, _stupid_ reason, she feels like she's going to start crying. She swallows hard a couple of times and her eyes stay dry. Even so, she knows that she can't go down and face Luke like this. He might be drunk but he'd still see that something was bothering her.

_Damn_ Nathan!

Checking her cell phone she realizes that she's already been gone for almost a hour, but Lucas is not a baby. She needs to re-apply her makeup. She needs air. Hell, she needs a freaking joint.

Most of all she needs to clear her head.

Where the fuck is Rachel? The laughter and music from downstairs is louder than before and she slips in through the bathroom door and shuts the sound out. She splashes some cold water on her face and looks up at her own face in the mirror. The smile that was spread over her face at the beginning of the evening is long gone, and tired red eyes look back at her.

She runs a hand through her hair and sighs. She's going to go out into the living room, grab her drunk boy and go back to his house. Then she's going to get naked, crawl into his bed and let him have sex with her until this entire night is washed out of her head.

But when she exits the bathroom, there are twice as many people at the party as it was when she went upstairs. The drinking game around the kitchen table has dissolved and she can't spot neither Rachel or Lucas.

She can't even see the 6'5 foot tall, Owen.

So much time passes as she walks from room to room in search of Lucas, that she's sure it has to be almost three in morning. Then she sees him. He's coming out of the bathroom, looking pale and nauseous. She guesses that all those shots of Tequila have finally got to him and with a sigh she wipes a hand over her face.

"God… you're completely _wasted,_" she mutters and grabs his hand to pull him out to the car. Thankfully his mom isn't home and she won't have to explain to Karen why she's brining Lucas home in this condition. "Where is that damn redhead?" she mutters more to herself than to anyone else. "She was supposed to look after you!" Wasn't there one single person that she could trust right now?

"Bev!" she snaps when passing her drunk friend. "Where's Raye?"

Bevin looks up and the blonde girl frowns when she sees Lucas. It's a weird expression on the girl's face but she brushes the thought away and repeats; "Have you seen Rachel, Bevin?"

She responds with a shake of the head and another frown in Lucas' direction. What the hell was wrong with Bevin? Hadn't she ever seen a drunk guy before?

Cursing silently she looks around in the living room once more. Finding Rachel in here would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Instead she turns to Lucas again and she's just about to snap something mean in his face about his sluggish movements when she realizes how horrible he looks.

And even in the messy state he's in, he looks very cute.

She breathes in and smoothens out the beginnings of her frown before touching his cheek. The innocence almost tingles against her fingertips and she reminds herself that all this is all still new to him. The popularity, the parties, the endless drinking and fooling around.

She remembers when getting drunk and disorderly was still new to her. Before alcohol was a simple a way of numbing herself. And suddenly she gets this urge to protect her boyfriend so that he won't become as hard and jaded as his asshole of a brother.

Or as herself.

"I'm sorry I disappeared…" he mumbles and looks sadder by the minute so she leans up and kisses his soft lips.

Fuck all the people in her life that keep trying to ruin this for them. This boy is who she wants to be with and if it means opening up more in order to make him happy, then she will. He's worth it.

"Don't worry Broody," she whispers back. "It's fine. I trust you."

He cringes and for a second she worries that he'll throw up, but when she smoothens out the creases on his forehead with the pad of her thumb, he just swallows and nods.

Vegas stumbles in through the open front door and he offers Lucas a wide drunken smile and a high five which her boyfriend doesn't manage to answer.

"You're the _man_, L. Scott! My true hero for the night!" Vegas laughs and continues into the living room, probably on his way to find a hook up for the night before the party officially goes overboard. Another wave of guilt for leaving Lucas to get this drunk crashes over her as she looks around at the wreckage that is her social circle.

"Wanna leave?" Lucas mumbles and awkwardly clears his throat.

She's used to nights like this and he _definitely_ is not.

"Yeah, let's get out of here," she smiles up at him and twines her fingers through his, pulling him with her outside.

It's true. Parties are _so_ overrated.

---x---

* * *

What's your most memorable 'party' experience?


	24. The Take Over, The Breaks Over

**AN:** We're almost at part 3 which will soon bring us full circle. Thank you all for your encouraging reviews and for reading our fic. We love writing this and when you take the time to review it just makes writing this all the more rewarding.

P.S. You all are some party animals! ;)

---x---

**Part 2: **_**Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 23 ****– **_The Take-Over, The Breaks Over_

**Junior Year**

_**February 24**__**th**_

She has a killer test in French class and if she blows this one her grade is definitely going to drop. Which means her GPA will plummet and she'll lose out on getting that extra thousand dollar 'Summer bonus' from her absent parents.

It sucks that she's still hung over from the party the night before and she silently curses Owen for keeping her up until almost 3am, making her extra tired. Sure, the sex had been worth it. It always was. But she could've really used those added two hours of sleep.

Yawning, she shoves her bag into her locker and pockets her cell before heading down the hall towards classroom 4H. And while going over the French grammar in her head, she wonders why she even cares. When it's time to pick a college, daddy dearest can always buy her a spot at a good school.

Maybe she's more of an 'ignored child'-cliché than she thinks? Maybe she just wants to prove them wrong.

"Hey, Rach, wait up!" Bevin's voice cuts into her thoughts.

Rachel pauses and turns to see the blonde cheerleader squeeze past a throng of students on her way over. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you," Bevin starts breathlessly, "did Brooke and Lucas break up?"

"What?" Rachel's face twists in confusion, "No, why?"

"Are you sure?" Bevin asks again.

"Bevin, why do you ask so many stupid questions all the time?" Rachel rolls her eyes and starts towards class again.

Walking the hall, she stops just outside the door to her classroom. Something's caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Rachel's always had excellent peripheral vision, so when a flick of golden curls bounces past a few yards, Rachel whirls around. Peyton's in a rush, it's evident in the way her bag is slung sloppily over her shoulder and slips free down her arm. But it doesn't slow her steady run across campus or distract her at all.

She wonders just what the hell could possibly be _that _important in Peyton's life. Rachel doesn't believe in running. Not unless her life is threatened or there's only one pair of shoes left on the rack.

"Rachel, come on!" Bevin shouts from inside the classroom. "¡Sientate, por favor!" she huffs and motions towards the redheads seat.

A grimace mars Rachel's seemingly flawless features as she processes Bevin's words and then she steps into class. "Bev," she starts with a sigh, "this is _French _class."

"Well," Bevin frowns, "I don't know any French, so…"

"Careful there, Einstein. Your IQ is dropping with every syllable," she grunts in return. "Now you have none," she smirks and sits down in her seat.

"Wait," Bevin frowns, "did you just call me stupid?"

Rachel sighs, "Darling, if you weren't insulted by my comments on your stupid questions in the hall, then why are you offended now?"

"I wasn't asking a stupid question," Bevin looks hurt, "I asked because if they're not broken up then why did she let Lucas make out with Peyton at the party?"

"_What?_" Rachel snaps.

"Dude," Bevin snorts, "everyone saw. It's like the girl had it out for him during that drinking game. She kept choosing him to choke down the shots and then when Vegas suggested spin the bottle—"

"Bevin you were fucking wasted that night," Rachel reminds her. "In fact, when I came back in the house you were hung upside down chugging from a beer bong."

Bevin giggles, "I was?"

"Classe d'attention!" their teacher slaps her hands together to gather her student's interest.

All heads fly upwards to stare up front but Rachel's eyes are outside the door watching Lucas sprint across the quad towards the library. Funny, she thinks to herself, she could have sworn he has Econ this period. Which is on the _other _side of campus.

It makes her wonder if maybe Bevin didn't hallucinate.

"Prêter attention, mademoiselle Rachel." Mrs. Emery says just before shutting the door the to class. She then asks her what could possibly be more exciting outside than inside her classroom.

To which Rachel replies, "You mean besides the dirt on the ground?"

"_En__Français__!_"

She rolls her eyes and opens her book to the required page. Every so often her eyes dart to the open door in search of blonde hair. Long and curly or short and messy, it doesn't matter. As long as it belongs to one of the teens in question.

"Bev," Rachel turns to whisper.

Bevin turns to her and arches her brow.

"How many people saw?" she asks softly.

"I dunno," the girl beside her shrugs, "that night is sort of a blur."

"You're useless, Bev, seriously." Rachel growls and looks back outside.

---x---

She's watching him and he hates that she won't look away. He's trying to fake-fail his English practice exam. He can't do that when she's looking over his shoulder like a damn hawk. It's not like he can just snap at her to knock it off. He has to be super sensitive when he's around her or she'll bail.

Actually, he kinda likes that about her. She makes him discipline his actions where as anyone else would just let him be an ass. It's refreshing in its own little annoying way.

He suppresses a groan because he could do this test in his sleep. So he guesses on the last three and slides the paper over to where she _should _be sitting. She gets the hint and with a small grunt she moves to her side of the table and starts to look over his answers.

His attention moves to the river beside them and he thinks about the shitty week he's just had. The fight with Brooke last night still makes him feel moody and weird and he can't _believe_ Brooke is actually still into Lucas. He was so sure she'd be over this phase by now and it doesn't help that lately Peyton has been a mega bitch.

Which is why they are once again—_off_.

He hopes this one will last longer than before because he can't stand to be around her as of late.

All she does is sit and sketch in her damn notebook. When she's not doing that she's brooding in a corner or telling him how much she hates being popular. But he must admit that there certain qualities that Peyton has that actually do make her somewhat appealing. When things were good, they were _good_ and when things were bad…

They sucked ass.

He misses how things used to be before everything changed. Before Peyton's mom died and Brooke made cheer captain. Before Brooke went and got all serious with the douche-bag. After all this, it's no surprise when a huge sigh escapes past his lips.

"Still in denial?" Haley mutters as she continues to grade his test.

He's momentarily caught off guard, "About what?" he asks wearily.

"Missing her." She looks up at him with those two big brown eyes of hers, "It's okay that you do."

For a moment he's terrified that's she _knows_. That maybe they're spending too much time together and that he's getting sloppy or that she can actually read his mind.

"What… are you my tutor or my shrink?" He snaps unintentionally.

He can't help that she knows just what buttons to push to unravel him. It's bad enough that both Brooke and Peyton know how, now he sees that he can add Haley to that list of females who can piss him off.

"Whatever you need." She shrugs and smirks down at his test.

"I treated her pretty bad." He starts to say even though every fiber of his being is telling him to _shut the fuck up_. "She had every right to walk away. Okay, yeah, it was my fault. I screwed up. I'm just starting to wish I had another chance." He sighs and shakes his head.

"Nice work." She smirks up at him.

He frowns, "That was the truth."

How dare she mock him? Nathan Scott does not open up like this—_ever_. She should be honored. Ecstatic that he chose _her _of all people to speak to. He sighs, okay that was an asshole thing to think about.

"No," she laughs. "On your practice exam. 81." Her fingers slide his paper back over to his side of the table.

"Oh." He blinks down at his test and chuckles. Even when he tries to screw up he still comes out on top. 81 is a B and here he thought he was well on his way to maintaining a believable C-average.

"You know, it's funny. I think we've actually talked more than I ever did with..." He shakes his head as he confesses to her.

"You and Peyton?" She says and he pauses.

"Uh," he clears his throat, "y-yeah." He gulps. "Peyton and I."

It's true. He and Peyton never discuss much and even then they don't admit to much. Hell, admitting he's an ass to Haley is even more than he's ever admitted to Brooke. Because every time he tried to do anything with Brooke that didn't consist of getting her off—she had pressed the breaks. Then again, it's not like he had tried that often.

"Peyton and I," Haley smiles, "good job." She bobs her head.

"Yeah, you too…" He chuckles. She has no idea but he's actually grateful to have gotten that little bit off his chest.

Even if she thinks he's talking about Peyton when he's actually referring to Brooke.

"Hey… are you coming to the game on Friday?" He asks.

"Um, well, it depends on how you do on your English exam." She starts, nodding. "Anything less than an 81, I'm staying home watching The Office." She flips the pages in the textbook in front of her and bites her pen.

A grin slides over his face. _Piece of cake_. He can easily ace this thing. She has no idea that she's just walked into yet another trap. He nods, "Sure thing, get ready to TiVo your show, baby."

To his surprise she actually giggles when he adds his signature crooked smile. She's usually not this easy to charm. Maybe it's the whole opening up thing that does it. Chicks liked that shit.

"Will you be my personal cheerleader as well as my tutor and my shrink?" he further tests the waters while shoving the practice test into his backpack. "You _did_ say 'anything you need', didn't you?"

She gives him her best 'don't be so immature'-look but underneath it a smile tugs at her lips. He starts to get up and her badly performed scowl turns into a surprised expression, "Um, where are you going?" she asks, "I thought we were going to finish this?"

He's already up from the bench and he shoulders his bag before leaning in closer to her over the table.

"I have basketball practice," he says in the smooth voice that he usually uses to get certain cheer-captains to drop their panties. It's so much fun to flirt with Haley and see that innocent blush when he takes it a little too far or comes a little too close. "It's why you're tutoring me, isn't it?" He winks, "So that I can stay on the team and keeping winning those games for you."

"That's not true, Nathan!" she corrects him but the blush is already creeping in place on her cheeks. "I tutor you so that you can make the _best_ out of your potential. So that you can get your point-average up and get into a good college."

He chuckles and instinctively touches her reddening cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Sure," he mumbles smiling, "that too."

She blushes further and he's not sure why but he finds himself adding, "Hey, Hales… Why don't you come along? You have free period, right? Come watch my practice."

And against everything he would have predicted, she agrees. Sure, she tries to play it all cool and indifferent, but she lowers her lashes when she nods.

"'Kay," she mutters, "It's not like I have anything better to do."

Suddenly she's progressing forward in his chess game far more than he had anticipated. Perhaps she will be the pawn that takes down the Ivory King. No, she can help the set up but she cannot be the follow through.

Because that move is his, and he plans on being the one to yell _checkmate_.

---x---

For once, everything is the way it's supposed to be.

Peyton is actually attending cheer-practice and Nathan is back on court as team captain. Jake is late for practice as usual, but bursts through the door at the last second, and Theresa is being her usual slutty self.

Brooke stretches along the sideline, not yet having started going through the new cheer-routine, and she smiles at the fact that everything is so normal. She had been a little shook up last night when fighting with Nathan and after the past week of struggling with her relationship, she'd felt like things were maybe falling apart a little. But now, as she warms up in the gym, she feels better.

It's going to be fine. She's sure.

Because apart from the fact Lucas looks totally green in the face when running, probably still feeling all the alcohol he digested last night – oh, and that Haley's up on the bleachers of course, throwing googly-eyes after Nathan – everything is just as it should be. Rachel had been right. Maybe all the worry she's felt after cotillion was just her being paranoid.

She bends over and leans her face closer to the floor. Stays in that position just to tease the boys on the team when they run passed her, doing 'suicides'.

Peyton leans against the railing a couple of feet away and from her bent over position, Brooke can easily see the blonde's eyes trailing after the guys as they run. They haven't talked much since they snapped at each other at the café but today Brooke feels gracious enough to reach out and make peace.

"Thinking about getting back with Nathan again, huh?" she offers cheerily and straightens up again. Peyton rolls her eyes but won't really look at her. And the answer, "I don't know…" sounds a little weak.

The boys run passed them again and for a second she thinks that maybe Peyton isn't looking at Nathan, because the dark haired Scott is in the lead of course and Peyton's green eyes are more attached to the boys in the middle, like Tim and Jake and…Lucas.

Her thoughts scatter and her face splits in a wide grin as her boyfriend again comes right passed where she stands and she winks and blows him a kiss. Eyes his ass that looks so cute in those shorts and wonders if maybe she could tell him to keep them on after practice.

Behind her, Rachel straightens up from her stretch as well, but _she's_ not watching the guys on the other side of the court. Why would she? She favors _men_, preferably football quarterbacks named Owen. Instead she watches Brooke and Peyton and the way they seem to look at the same thing.

And she doesn't _like_ what's going on.

She doesn't like it because she can't figure out if something is going on right under her nose. She can feel and sense it deep in her bones but she can't quite put her finger on it. The feeling has lingered since this morning and she knows that Owen would tell her that she's being paranoid because according to him; when everything is going good she's always ready for a disaster. But she knows she's not overreacting. Something _is _going to happen.

It always does.

Brooke's been trying to tell her, but had she listened? No. She hasn't listened because lately Brooke's been ridiculously insecure and it bugs the shit out of her. But now she's starting to feel it too.

Karma has a real shitty way of rearing its ugly head. Whether the bad fortune is on her, Brooke, Owen or whoever… it's coming. Things have been _too _quiet, _too _good. She's been walking on eggshells and trying her hardest not to let Brooke know that she feels this way since the brunette has enough with dealing with her insecurity issues around Lucas. Brooke might look content right now when she cheers Lucas on a few feet away, but something _is_ off.

Maybe it's just women's intuition.

Or maybe they're just both so damn _jaded _that none of them know how to accept being happy. Rachel wrinkles her nose at the word 'happy' and shakes her head as she continues to stretch the other leg.

She can't help but feel like there's some really weird tension in the air at today's practice. She tries to deny it but Lucas seems skittish, Peyton is just behaving plain awkward and Nathan won't look at neither Brooke nor his blonde on-and-off skank. Then in the corner of her eye, she sees how Lucas finally meets Peyton's eyes over the gym and the curly blonde visibly relaxes her features into a very unusual smile.

Lucas however, frowns and looks over at Brooke. And for a second Rachel thinks that he looks torn.

"Hey Bevin," she says and walks closer to the girl who currently busies herself with drooling over Skills, "Are you sure you saw Lucas and Peyton kissing?"

"Huh?"

Bevin is a sweet girl, but it's annoying as fuck that it takes so long for her to actually grasp a simple question.

"At the party," she clarifies, "Are you sure that you saw them locking lips?"

Another couple of seconds pass while Bevin thinks. "Well I know I was really wasted," she says and frowns in concentration. "I mean, at some point during last night I thought Vegas had three legs and four eyes but he swore to me that he didn't, so…"

Her sentence trails off into space and Rachel can't help but laugh. When looking back towards the court, Lucas is taking a water break and his arms are wrapped securely around Brooke's waist. Peyton is back to her scowling self and Nathan is flirting with the tutor.

A soft moan escapes Lucas lips as Brooke reaches up and kisses his neck and from further down the court she can hear Whitey scolding Brooke loudly for hogging his player.

Maybe she's wrong? Maybe nothing is out of the ordinary and she's preaching judgment day for no reason.

She inwardly sighs and pushes the paranoia aside. Inwardly she curses Brooke for letting her worries rub off. Lucas is still gaga over Brooke and he would never have the balls to do anything without Brooke's permission.

The thought that she's been trying to ignore finally pushes its way to the front of her mind and at last she gives up and lets it through.

If she told Brooke what Bevin was rambling about, the brunette would just get even more insecure around her boyfriend, and it's probably nothing more than just a stupid rumor. God knows that enough of them gets spread around.

Plus, Brooke had been upstairs screwing Nathan anyway.

---x---

**February 27****th**

He's busy busing empty tables when Jake settles down onto a stool beside him to relax for a break. He looks utterly exhausted and Lucas shoots him a sympathetic look as he comes over and swipes a rag over a coffee ring a few inches away from him on the counter. Lucas could never imagine raising a child at this point in his life. He both admires and pities Jake for pulling off the impossible.

Between going to school and practice, holding a part-time job and staying up half the nights with a baby, Lucas is sure he'd crack.

"So," Jake clears his throat and spins the stool around to face Lucas behind the main counter in the café, "what's with the new company you've been keeping?"

"Huh?" Lucas crunches his face up confused.

The brown eyed boy sighs and sets his hands down onto the counter between them and trails his fingers back and forth. "A bit of advice, huh?" he chuckles softly, "The prettier they are? The more trouble they come with."

"Uhh… okay?"

Jake sighs loudly. He could ring this guys neck from frustration sometimes, "What are you doing, Luke? I mean, seriously. I understand that you're a good guy and you have this… _need_ or whatever to fix the broken, but—"

"Jake, I seriously have no idea what you're talking about," Lucas laughs nervously.

"She's not…" he sighs, "she's not stable, Luke. She has deeply imbedded issues that go way beyond anything you can ever imagine."

"Okay, I am so lost right now it's ridiculous," Lucas dares to laugh a second time.

"She's really good at getting what she wants," Jake whispers so light that Lucas has to lean in closer to hear him.

This is the second time Lucas has heard this statement and hearing it the second time around does nothing to help solve the puzzle. It just makes him even more confused, if that's even possible. He was sure Nathan had been talking about Brooke when he'd said those words. But now when they come from Jake, he doubts his first impression.

For some unknown reason, Lucas is almost positive that despite everything, both boys are speaking about the same girl.

"Let me guess," he snorts, "'_she_ gets bored really easily." He rolls his eyes, hating that he doesn't know who the hell they're even talking about anymore.

Jake's lips twitch, a sudden tick beneath his left eye starts up and Lucas watches as he groans and rubs his hands over his face. "I've been in your spot before, it's really easy to bite the bait, Luke. But that's exactly what it is… _bait_."

"I wish everyone would stop talking in riddles and just freaking _say_ what it is they're trying to say." Lucas growls out aggravated. His stomach churns and the pressure from the last couple of days is starting to take its toll. He absolutely _hates_ that he has no idea how much Jake actually knows.

His friend grunts and shakes his head, "But that's not how you play the game, L. Scott," he smirks.

"What game? I'm not playing any stupid games, I'm just trying to figure out what it is that everyone else seems to know but me." He exclaims in a bitter tone that makes Jake snicker into a hand.

"You don't get it, do you? Luke, man… it's too late. You're already _in _the game. Whether you know how to play or even if you _want_ to play or not," he shrugs. "You're in it now, and there aint no going back."

"You're acting like there's a whole other world I've somehow stepped into," Lucas frowns feelings uneasy, "is that what you're telling me, Jake?"

But his brown haired teammate just sighs in response.

"Look, Peyton's already given me this speech, okay? Us and them. Their world, my world. This side, that side. I'm so confused over all these different boundaries and etiquette's and lifestyles, that I'm not even sure about myself right now. All I know is how I feel, and what I _feel_ is confusion."

Jake closes his eyes and breathes deep.

Lucas sighs and continues to speak his mind, "I love Brooke," he states matter-of-fact, "and I know that with her comes… _stuff_. Things that she's not ready to talk to me about but I know that eventually we'll get there. And we'll get there on our own because I am not going to listen to what anyone else has to say about us. I'm so sick of defending my relationship—"

"Lucas," Jake interrupts him firmly, "if everything you're saying to me right now is true? Then why the hell are you suddenly so interested in the best friend?"

_Shit_.

Luke's mouth snaps shut and he takes a defensive step back, "I'm not," his voice is small, "she was just trying to help me get through this Cotillion thing with Brooke. We're friends, and Peyton says–"

"Are you jealous of Nathan?" Jake blurts out.

"W-what? No!" he shouts disgusted. "Why the hell would I feel threatened by that piece of garbage? He's an even more self absorbed version of Dan and never in a million years would I ever even put myself beside someone like that."

"Then why are you tripping over Cotillion? And honestly, Lucas? If you really knew your girl at all, you'd know that talking to Peyton is the last thing on Earth you should be doing. Those two haven't been genuine best friends for a really long time. So if your original intent was _really_ about getting to know Brooke, you would have talked to Rachel. Don't feed me that bullshit about Peyton knowing Brooke the best, because if it'd been me? I'd talk to the friend my girl is actually _living _with, okay? I'd ask the one who makes her laugh. Not the one who makes her cry."

And now Lucas feels lost. Taken aside what had happened at the party, why would Brooke call Peyton her best friend if it wasn't true? Why the hell did Peyton walk around as if she was the 'Brooke expert' if in reality she and Brooke weren't even on friendly terms?

Well, maybe that wasn't his biggest problem right now.

"Why don't you just talk to Brooke? Forget what anyone else says, because no one can tell her how you feel better than you." Jake says sounding wise and all-knowing.

"Easier said than done," Luke mumbles.

His 'enlightened' friend lets loose a small chuckle before he leans in closer, "I'll let you in on a little something I wish someone had told me before I lost myself for that while before Jenny came into my life…"

Lucas gulps anxiously.

"Play the game because you have to, not because you can. And whatever you do, don't let it play _you_. If you're confused, that's a good thing. Because the second this shit starts to make sense? That's when you know you're in too deep, Luke. I'd hate to see yet another log thrown into the fire, that's all." He stands up from the stool and brushes his hands over his apron to dust off crumbs that aren't even there. "I gotta get back to work, breaks over," he mumbles and heads towards the couple that has just been seated.

Silent and unable to move, Lucas remains standing where he is and watches Jake move around the café. Something about him seems so out of place for someone his age. Lucas remembers not too long ago when Jake was a fun loving, joke popping, basketball playing, high school student . Now he's just… _jaded_.

"How the hell do you know so much, Jake?" Lucas asks when the boy walks behind the counter beside him to look for extra salt shakers.

His friend merely smirks, "I'm very observant."

"Mind if I ask you a personal question?" Luke mumbles quietly. Jake shrugs and he takes a deep breath before asking, "Why is it that you seem to know Brooke and Peyton so well?"

But before he can answer, Haley comes bounding into the café with a frown so deep it's sure to cause premature wrinkles. Lucas immediately grows concerned and Jake takes this opportunity to slip away. He doesn't get far though, because soon enough Haley is gripping his forearm and muttering about stupid rich, self-absorbed basketball players who think they rule the universe.

"What's wrong, Hales?" Lucas asks her and feels a hint of jealousy when she shakes her head at him and says nothing. Because clearly it's not 'nothing' and the way she confides in Jake instead of him makes him feel alienated.

He's felt enough of that lately.

Suddenly his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out quickly to check the screen and when it reads _'Peyton Calling…' _he grimaces then presses the '_ignore_' button. When he looks up towards Haley she's already gone off to take over Jake's table.

Which just leaves Jake standing in front of him with a look that makes him feel as if he's guilty of something. Jake's expression doesn't reveal if it has something to do with things that he's already done or if it's something the guy thinks he's capable of doing. Maybe it's even something he hasn't done yet?

Either way, Lucas is done with all the damn riddles. So without even saying goodbye, he walks outside and starts walking down the street. He may be blonde and blue eyed, but he is certainly not named Alice.

Even if Tree Hill is starting to feel like his own personal _Wonderland_.

---x---

It takes exactly eight seconds between every spurt of water in the big fountain. Brooke knows because she's had time to count out a lot of intervals while balancing around the edge of it.

The mall is busy, people run back and forth over the open spot around the food court, but she looks calm as she keeps putting one foot in front of the other, purse dangling carelessly from her hand.

She _looks_ calm, but on the inside she's starting to worry. Lucas is almost twenty minutes late and he never keeps her waiting. And not that they have a strict time-schedule to keep to, they're just grabbing a bite to eat before heading home to Lucas' house to study. But his shift at the café ended at three so he should have easily made it here by three thirty.

Now it's almost four o'clock.

Brooke turns and starts balancing in the opposite direction. If this wasn't Lucas, then she wouldn't even have waited this long. Usually she's the one who's late but for him she had made an effort. She had actually made it here with two minutes to spare.

The nagging feeling is back and she chews on her bottom lip. Rachel could roll her eyes all she wanted but Brooke can _feel_ it. Something is 'off' with Lucas lately and she wishes that she knew why. He still as sweet as always. He still dotes on her in school and he calls her every night to wish her sweet dreams. But he seems a little distant and for the hundredth time in the last few days she worries that he's getting bored.

The fountain produces another pillar of water and she scans the crowd again for his face.

Maybe she should call him? Just to see if he's okay. Or would that seem too clingy?

Damn it. Maybe Rachel is right? No boy has ever made her feel as safe and as cherished as Lucas Scott, but at the same time, her redheaded best friend makes a point when she says that no boy before him has ever made her feel so _insecure_.

This self-conscious girl isn't her. She's usually not like this. So why can't she toughen up and stop worrying that he'll see through her? See the real her and hate it…

She's just about to jump down from the edge around the fountain and head home when she finally sees that familiar dirt blonde head of hair. Instantly her insides flutter and he frown twists into a smile.

He's here.

"I'm sorry Pretty girl," he blurts out looking guilty, before grabbing her waist and lifting her down from the ledge so that he can kiss her. "I was held up and traffic was really bad down by Mason Street."

He smells like soap and aftershave and she smiles and presses her gloss covered lips against his.

"It's okay, boyfriend," she says and winks, "I just got here."

What's a little white lie compared to telling him how insecure she's felt lately? _Nothing_, that's what it is.

"I've missed you," he mumbles softly and kisses her again, right in the middle of a mall full of their peers, and her worries diminish by the second. She's his girlfriend. He has missed her. He even admits it out loud.

"Missed you too, baby" she mumbles back and runs her thumb over the crease on his forehead caused by his typical broody-boy guilt. "And don't worry about being late" she adds, "You're here now, aren't you?" Another wink and a dimple-showing smile and this time he smiles back more genuinely.

"Yeah, and I'll make it up to you," he answers with a lot more seriousness than she thinks is needed. Poor baby, she thinks. Lucas had probably been sure that she'd be mad. "Now lets eat," she suggests instead and pulls him by the hand towards the food court.

What's twenty minutes when compared to the bigger picture? They're in love and he's entitled to being late once in a while. After all, she's the one that's normally late and he's never mad at her.

Then again, he never looks this guilty.

---x---

**March 1****st**

He's so fucking tired of listening to his parents constant fighting. Usually it's about his father's late nights at the office or the never ending flirting that Dan keeps up with much younger women, but tonight it had been one of Nathan's least favorite subjects – his own basketball career.

Okay, so his stats have kind of gone down lately because he's missed a couple of practices which meant that he had to sit out last week's game. But so what? He's still the best player the team has and Whitey knows it.

He's a junior, yet he has the highest score average on the entire team. He's has the captain position and with more than a year left of high school he's a mere two points away from breaking Dan's record. No doubt, all the crap he's getting from his father is bullshit.

Because Dan should see that Lucas is a passing problem. The guy doesn't have enough skills to ever compete with him for the top-spot. And he never will.

But all through dinner Dan had been telling him what an idiot he is for letting Lucas get a spot in the line-up, and when the shit just kept coming, Deb had finally had enough and stepped in between. It took ten minutes before the full blown yelling started and by 10.30pm he was more than fed up.

Armed with car-keys, cell phone and wallet, he had climbed out the window and gotten into the car. And it wasn't until he was halfway down the block that he realized that he didn't have a goal.

He couldn't go to Peyton's because he hadn't graveled enough to earn back his boyfriend privileges. Even if he had, his blonde ex-girlfriend has been acting strange as hell the last couple of days. And it's not like he could show up on Brooke's doorstep since she was dead serious about this business with his bastard brother.

Lucas fucking Scott was a _constant_ pain in the ass.

And since Tim was away for the weekend to visit some relatives, Nathan's pretty much left with one option.

Which is why Nathan is cruising the roads of Raleigh at close to midnight. It's Tuesday night though and since the Blue Devils football team had Wednesday mornings off he's pretty sure that Owen is back in Tree Hill with Rachel, just a couple of houses down the street from his own. But O, Tyler and the other guys at the frat-house had told him more than once that he was always welcome there, no matter what.

By the time he parks his car next to Tyler's battered truck, he has almost calmed down completely. The tension in his shoulders is losing up and the scowl is gone from his face.

He pockets the keys, whistles silently to himself as he walks up the driveway and he climbs the porch stairs two steps at the time. But just when he's about to knock on the front door, it opens from inside and he jumps back in pure surprise.

It's past midnight after all and the last thing he's expected is to come face to face with Brenna's blonde roommate.

"Elle," he greets in hesitance. "What're you doing here?"

He peeks over her shoulder, suddenly worried that Brenna's in there as well. He hasn't talked to her since he ditched her in her dorm to hang out with Owen. Running into her in the middle of the night like this could be a little awkward.

But Elle seems to be alone and she looks back at him and crosses her arms over her chest. "I could ask you the same. What's a kid like you doing here at this late hour?"

"Just taking a drive." He shrugs and she doesn't seem to want to engage in more small-talk because she shoulders her duffel bag and looks down the driveway.

He takes a second to glance at her appearance before he steps out of her way. She looks tired. Her blonde hair is messy and she's wearing a much too big sweater with the Duke football-team logo on the front. He's pretty sure that it doesn't belong to her.

"You okay?" he asks when she passes him because it's clear that she's not a happy camper, but she just nods absentmindedly and starts walking down the stairs.

"See you around," she mumbles.

"Yeah, sure... See you."

Confused he watches her disappear down the driveway and he wonders if she's planning on walking back to girls' dorm on the other side of campus. It's dark and even though she seems to have the temper of a pit bull, she's even tinier than Brooke.

He takes a hesitant step through the still open door to the house and right then Tyler comes out from the kitchen, wearing only sweats and no shirt.

Nathan smirks and nods his head in greeting to the sleepy looking running back. It doesn't take a genius to figure out who the real owner is to the giant sweater that Elle had been wearing.

So _that's_ why she had looked so grumpy. Tyler hadn't asked her to stay.

"What's up with your manners, Ty?" he chuckles, "you don't even give the girls a ride home when you kick them out in the middle of the night?"

Tyler scratches the back of his neck and yawns. "Huh?"

Nathan grins wider.

"Good job, man. She's hot. But you should have driven her home," he throws his jacket over the back of the living room couch, "It's fucked up to let her walk all the way over campus at this hour."

"Who?" Tyler just keeps looking more and more confused. "What the fuck are you talking about, Prep? And what are you doing here?"

"_Elle_, dude. She just walked out the door when I walked in."

"Elle?"

"_Yes_, the blonde that rooms with Brenna. She was wearing your sweater, Ty."

Tyler frowns and unconsciously Nathan mimics the expression. They look at each other, both of them equally confused by now. And just when Nathan is about to tell Tyler to cut the act – it's obvious that the girl had been with him – Owen comes down the stairs from the upper floor, looking newly awake and disoriented.

"What fucking sweater?" Tyler presses impatiently, and that's when Nathan realizes that there had been a number on it. 52. And that was _not_ Tyler's number. Tyler Gage wore number 16.

52 belonged to the starting quarterback. Owen Morello.

"Did that Elle-chick just walk out wearing your sweater, O?" Nathan asks slowly and redirects his glance to Owen who looks like he wants to back-track up to where he came from.

"Uhm…" The silence in the room is disturbing while Owen watches the closed front door. Then he clears his throat and finally meets Nathan's gaze. "So… she left?"

"Yeah, maybe two minutes ago."

Owen curses silently and walks down the last couple of steps. "You can sleep in my room Preppy," he mutters and grabs a jacket from a hanger by the door. "I need to… uh… deal with a couple of things."

Both Nathan and Tyler stay silent and Nathan's pretty sure that Tyler's pondering the same questions that are looping in his own head. He even contemplates asking some of them out loud but just when he's about to open his mouth to speak, Owen turns in the doorway.

"If either of you so much as breathes about this to Rachel, I will rearrange your faces. Understood?"

The quarterback opens the front door and Tyler mumbles something that Nathan doesn't pick up but it makes Owen sigh and mutter, "Whatever, Gage. I'll explain later."

Then the door closes behind Owen and Tyler again scratches the back of his head.

"What the hell was that about?" Nathan mumbles and Tyler shrugs.

"I have no clue, dude. But I sure as hell want to know."

Who doesn't? If Owen is creeping behind Rachel's back then he doesn't want to walk in the quarterback's shoes, 'cause the redhead will surely kill him.

Frowning he starts towards the stairs to crash in Owen's room for a couple of hours but Tyler points towards the TV-set and the xbox.

"Wanna try out the new GTA?" the running-back asks with a boyish grin and takes a leap over the back of the couch. "I'm staying up. Dude, I can't _wait_ to hear O's explanation." And maybe Nathan would buy the whole act if the grin wasn't so stiff and Tyler hadn't sounded both a little bitter and jealous.

Chuckling, he settles next to Ty on the couch and grabs one of the controllers. To think that all this time he had thought that Tree Hill was drama central?

Durham seems to have its own set of tangled lies.

---x---

**March 3****rd**

They're in the library, putting fifth period study-hall to good use with studying for their economics paper. It's boring her to no end and when Lucas looks up from his book and clears his throat, she gladly takes the excuse he offers to have a break.

"What's up boyfriend?" she smiles, "bored already? Want me to entertain you?"

She quirks an eyebrow suggestively and he laughs softly. "You would, wouldn't you, Brooke?" he smiles back.

"Of course."

He seems to be in a better mood than when they sat down twenty minutes ago – then he'd been unusually broody and distant – but now he pins a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and strokes her cheek.

"Can I ask you something, pretty girl?" he mumbles and laces his fingers through hers over the table.

"Sure, broody," she smiles and leans in over the table. "Is it kinky?" she teases and lifts her eyebrow into an inviting quirk.

"Uh… not really..."

As usual, he blushes and clears his throat and it makes her giggle. Talking to him about herself isn't so scary after all. He just wants to get to know her and she had after all said that she wanted this too. For him to know _almost_ everything about her.

"Well," she smiles reassuringly, "kinky will have to wait until after school I guess." She winks at him and leans in even closer. "What did you want to ask me?"

He hesitates for a second and then he lowers his voice. "How many guys have you… uhm… _been_ with?" he asks blushing some more. "I mean, before me…"

Damn. Scratch wanting the 'get to know you'-part. This is exactly one of the questions she _doesn't_ want to answer. The side of her that she _doesn't_ want on display in front of this great guy. She might use her flirting and her sexy antics with him when she wants stuff or when she tries to coax out that cute blush, but she doesn't want him to know _how_ skilled she really is in this department.

"Why do you want to know that?" she mumbles and tries to keep looking at him even though her eyes keep straying away from his beautiful blue stare.

"I was just wondering."

In the corner of her eye she can see that he's smiling gently. And for a second she wonders if that's it? If he's really just being curious? But she's smarter than that. Of course this is based on something else – probably the ongoing locker room stories about her, or something he's heard from the gossip around school. What guy hasn't bragged about getting with her? If it's true or not never really seems to count.

"It's not all true, you know?" she snaps a little too harshly and his smile disappears. "All the bullshit going around about me, okay? Guys can talk a lot of crap. Especially in a locker room filled with testosterone and not a single female to but in with the truth."

Their hands are still linked over the table and when she tries to pull hers away, he gives her hand a squeeze and holds on. "I know that, Brooke," he says quietly, maybe because her outburst seems to have drawn attention to their table and the freshman girls to their left are blatantly staring. "I was just wondering since… you know… you were my first and I feel a little inferior."

She blinks back confused. Inferior? To her?

"Because I slept with other guys before I slept with you?" she wonders out loud.

"Yeah…"

She takes a second to think about how to answer this. Of course she doesn't want him to think like that. After all, except for one other guy, Lucas is the only one that she has kept sleeping with after the first drunken hook-up. Most of the guys she's made out within the past are blurry faces without names but she hasn't slept with as many boys as the stories suggests.

"You shouldn't worry about that," she mumbles while keeping her eyes trained on the table's worn down surface. "It's just a number. It doesn't matter."

"I didn't mean to offend you Brooke. You don't have to answer."

His free hand comes up to touch her cheek and she forces a smile and looks back up. What was it that they promised each other last night? To be honest? Maybe she should try it for once because if her worries are real and Lucas wouldn't like the real her, then she's better off knowing this now and not further down the road.

So she swallows and raises her chin.

"I've slept with seven guys including you," she declares. "Ethan Parker was my first, at a party at the end of freshman year, and since I'm guessing that your next question will be if it was worth giving it away to him – then the answer is no."

He looks calm, but it's the sympathy in his eyes that makes her understand that she should have lied. He looks like he feels sorry for her and she absolutely hates it.

"So, no," she mutters and starts collecting her books. "_You_ don't have to feel inferior."

"Brooke? Where are you going?"

Lucas reaches for her and just when she's about to slip away from the table, he pulls her over to him instead. "I have to get to cheer-practice," she lies and bites her lip. And of course he believes her. He _always_ believes her.

"Then I'll come with you," he smiles and gets up too. "I could use some time in the weightlifting room."

His arm slips around her shoulders and she relaxes a little. Maybe he isn't pitying her after all.

She lets him lead her towards the door and for a quick second she locks eyes with Nathan. And even though the dark haired Scott doesn't even change his facial expression, she still feels like he can read her mind.

"Can we go get coffee first?" she says and lets her body mold closer into Lucas' side. The amount of stuff Nathan knows about her makes her nervous, even more nervous than Lucas' questions. And when Lucas says, "Sure," and guides her towards the cafeteria she smiles and pushes it all to the back of her mind.

Nathan doesn't smile though, because he doesn't find the sight of Brooke cuddling Lucas that funny, and when his bastard brother leads the brunette out of the library, he groans in irritation.

Not solely because he hates watching the two being all lovey dovey but because Lucas is getting closer to Brooke in all ways possible and there's no use denying to himself that it pisses him off. As he closes his book, he still can't believe that she actually answered that question. Just like the freshmen at the next table he heard pretty much the entire conversation and it brings back memories of times long passed.

Why the hell does he even bother playing life's fucked up game of chess anyways? Because every time he makes a move that he's sure will lead him towards victory, the opposing team hits him with shit like this. Things that often lead him to believe that he just may have less pawns on his side than he'd originally started off with.

He'll always have his knights, the boys at Sigma Nu will forever be on his side. But his bishop, his one loyal ally and constant confidant, has seemingly forgotten which side of the board he plays on. He's colored for black, but he still blocks for white.

Nathan is vastly starting to consider the possibility of a stalemate. Decisions like this enable him to believe himself to be the player with the inferior position. And an attitude like that always leads to drawing the game. But losing isn't an option, right? Isn't that what Dan's drilled into his head for the past 16 some odd years?

Even so, he still can't deny that his side of the board is almost empty. One castle's already been taken away, Tree Hill now stands divided between the old and the new. Nathan and Lucas. And as for the queen…

"What the fuck are you looking at?" he snaps at the pimple-faced boy who's still staring after Brooke even though she's left her table in the library. He scowls and the boy quickly looks away.

"I-I'm sorry," he stutters and Nathan snorts. Sorry, my ass. The little dude is about as sorry as a kid on Christmas morning when watching Brooke sway her hips as she walks away with Lucas.

He shouldn't care that the little dickhead seems to take such pleasure in looking at Brooke's ass. But he does.

He blows out air through his nose in a frustrated manner and leaves as well. He takes a detour over the schoolyard so that he won't cross paths with Brooke and the loser again and sets out to find his teammates whose keeping court out in the far side of the cafeteria.

"Wassup, Nate?" Fede says and knocks his fist. "Where you been, man?"

"The library." Nathan shoves his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket and sits down next to Ruben, the Ravens small forward. "I had to get some shit finished for the History paper."

Fede winks, "For the tutor, right? How's that going? Did you get in her pants yet?"

"Not interested," he mutters back. He's still grumpy and when Ruben starts making lame tutor-jokes he wonders if maybe he should have just skipped lunch and headed to the weightlifting room. But it's a little late now.

"Oh that's right," Terry breaks in, "Peyton was looking for you."

"Yeah? What she want?" Nathan picks up an apple from Tim's tray and bites a big chunk out of it.

Ruben chuckles. "To get laid? What the hell do we know, Nate? Your girlfriend isn't exactly the poster-child for small talk."

"She's not my girlfriend," he mutters back but Fede mumbles, "Not today maybe…"

Vegas has been pretty quiet but at the last mumbled comment, he clears his throat and looks away. It's almost unnoticeable but Nathan sees it.

"What, dude?" he says and frowns. "What's with you Vegas? You've been weird all week."

Vegas shrugs and looks guilty and now Nathan realizes that they're all behaving a little strange. "_What_?" he repeats himself and takes another bite out of the apple. And this time Vegas sighs.

"Dude," he mutters, "You _do_ know that there's a rumor going around about Peyton, right?" he asks and cringes. "From the party at your house the other week?"

Nathan shakes his head tiredly. His teammates are like gossiping teenage girls.

Chewing loudly, he shrugs with a bored expression. "Well, if the rumor says she's pregnant, then it's not my kid," he jokes. "Must be someone else's."

Ruben coughs and Tim keeps looking between the guys like he's sitting at a tennis-match. "What's the rumor?" he presses in excitement, "Come on, Vegas! Spill!"

Vegas cringes. "We'll we were playing spin the bottle, and I might have–, um… told Lucas to kiss her, you know?"

Really?

The expression on Vegas' face is hesitant, as if he expects to get punched in the face. But hey, a game's a game, right? And if his loser half-brother was dumb enough to take the bait, then Nathan can't other than look forward to Brooke's fury. Judging from earlier in the library, he's pretty sure she doesn't know. Yet.

The outcome will be spectacular and he's been dying for some fucking entertainment in this small little Podunk town. If the miles on his truck mean anything, it's that he hates Tree Hill and everything it has to offer—which is _nothing_. Boredom can make Nathan—and people like him—turn cruel just to get a little excitement. And even then, it only lasts so long.

At least as long as it takes for the next hurricane of drama to swoop in and take its place.

"So what's the rumor?" he asks nonchalantly and leans back in his chair. "I'm guessing that there's more since it wouldn't really be a rumor if you were there to see it, right?"

There's a second of silence and, waiting for the guys to tell him the overdramatic new gossip, Nathan bites into the apple for the third time.

And maybe he shouldn't have. Because when Vegas actually _does_ spill, the bite almost gets stuck in Nathan's throat.

---x---

As if on autopilot she drives straight to Rachel's house after dropping Lucas off. She doesn't feel like being alone in her empty home and Lucas' mom isn't all that keen on letting her stay the night. So she parks her car behind Rachel's black Denali and one look at the sloppily parked huge truck further down the driveway tells her that Owen is here as well.

And it's not that she's disappointed. She loves hanging out with both Rachel and Owen. It's just that Lucas' seemingly innocent questions earlier has brought out a lot of doubt in her head, issues that she'd rather handle with only her best friend as company.

Then again, Rachel is probably going to laugh at her worries anyway.

She forces the frown from her face because just like a big brother, Owen sees through her façade. Not as good as Raye can of course, but he comes in at a damn close second. And she's so not in the mood for having to convince him that no one has 'been mean' to her. Instead she plasters on a happy grin and as soon as she opens the front door it becomes real because the scent of food hits her. _Good_ food. Spices that remind her of the home-cooked meals that someone used to make for her when she was still young enough to need a nanny.

It was years ago but she still remembers.

Now as she hangs her jacket in the hallway and ventures into the house, she figures that the Gatina maid has decided to feed them for once, but surprisingly she finds that Rachel is the one who's in the kitchen cooking. And maybe she shouldn't find this so weird since she's seen her redheaded friend whip up both breakfasts and late night snacks at the Sigma Nu house from a basically empty fridge. But usually those were actions brought on by a hang-over or a bad case of the munchies. Rachel usually didn't leisure-cook.

"What'cha doing, skank?" she questions and throws her bag on a nearby chair before heaving herself up on the kitchen island. "Cooking, huh? How very 'Desperate Housewives' of you. Are you trying to get on Owens good side?"

"Oh, shut up," Rachel mutters without even turning. "Don't be a hater. If it weren't for me, you and Owen would both starve."

Touché.

She watches as Rachel moves between pots and pans and she wonders for the millionth time were she'd be right now if Rachel's father hadn't been relocated. She'd have been very lonely, that's for sure. And when she hears Owen yell out angrily to the TV in the living room, she adds the thought of where both she and Rachel would be without the big quarterback…

"Hey, Raye…" she says and picks up a slice of tomato from a plate. "Have you ever told Owen how many guys you've slept with?"

Rachel turns and laughs. "_Surrre_…" she drawls, "because I _so_ want to cause a mass killing." She stirs the content in one of the pots and then she looks back at Brooke over her shoulder. "Why are you asking? Did Lucas actually grow a pair and ask you a question about sex? Wow…"

"Shut up, _Rachel Ray_. Go back to your yucky food-experiment." She pouts and Rachel chuckles.

For a couple of minutes the only sounds heard are the ones from the faint sports game in the other room. Then Rachel walks over to the fridge and grabs two sodas before tossing one to Brooke.

"I'm just messing with you, B," she smiles and leans against the kitchen counter. "But no, I didn't tell Owen since that information wouldn't cause anything but trouble. I don't want to know how many notches he has on his bedpost and I'm pretty sure he feels the same." She opens the soda-can and gulps down some of it. "One thing though… Who _was_ the last guy you had before Lucas?" The smile turns into a smirk, "Besides Nathan of course."

And it's weird because she actually has to think in order to answer Rachel's question. She has to concentrate and still no name comes up. She almost blushes when she realizes why.

"You know what?" she mutters, "No one."

Rachel looks at her funny and frowns. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that when I was with Nathan, I was _with_ Nathan," she tries to explain. She shrugs to show that it's as easy as that, but she can't help but to frown at the thought herself. In a way that she can't quite explain, the thought kind of worries her.

"You're lying," Rachel smirks and takes another sip of her soda. "Not _just_ Nathan. What about _Tyler_?" The redhead singsongs the name of Owens teammate and Brooke laughs. She's not likely to forget that night.

"Yeah, well that was fun but I couldn't go through with it," Brooke chuckles and drinks from her own soda. And Rachel in turn just gawks back at her, totally in shock.

"What the HELL, Brooke?! Dude, are you insane? Have you _seen_ Tyler?" She waves her hands and points to the living room before lowering her voice into a hushed whisper. "If I wasn't with the big oaf in there, I'd be all over that boy. I can't _believe_ that you passed on that!"

"No seriously Raye, I _couldn't_ go through with it! Like _literally_ couldn't." Her own voice sinks as well. "However much I _wanted_ to, Tyler slammed on the breaks as soon as your cock-block _boyfriend_ ruined everything."

"Ohh…" Rachel starts laughing and then Owens voice comes from the doorway.

"What, Raye?" he questions with a serious frown, "You seriously wanted me to let my frat-brothers crawl all over Davis? Yeah, I don't think so." He rolls his eyes and slings an arm around Rachel's waist as he dips his finger into one of the pots to taste the content.

"Ow, fuck!" he growls when the sauce is hotter than expected and Rachel promptly sticks his finger into her mouth to help the burn.

"You so deserved that," Brooke teases, "It's your own fault for ruining my hook-up." She sticks her tongue out just to make a point and he rips his fingertip away from Rachel's soothing lips before launching towards the brunette in a way that has her in fit of giggles.

Of course she doesn't stand a chance.

"Brookie, Brookie, Brookie…" he teases back when he finally has her caught in a headlock in the crook of his arm. "Don't underestimate my speed and strength, sweetie. And _never_ underestimate my subconscious way of knowing when you're getting your little behind in way too deep with the big boys."

She fights to get loose but Owen holds her in a firm grip and Rachel just laughs. "Screw you, O," Brooke groans and shoves her fingers into his sides in an effort to tickle him back the way he tickles her, but he brushes her hands off of him easily.

"Do I really have to remind you of the long list of broken hearts you've managed to leave in your wake at the house?" his arm tightens around her waist.

"Whaaat?" Brooke plays dumb.

"Does the name, _Kellan_, ring any bells?" Owen says and immediately Brooke's shoulders tense up and her stomach churns.

Rachel frowns at her reaction and eyes Owen in disapproval, "Knock it off, O. You know that's a sensitive subject."

"I think that might be a touchy subject for all of us," Owen nods his head but immediately slinks back into play mode. "But with that in mind, say after me, B," he orders. "I will _stay away_ from the Sigma Nu boys."

Brooke rolls her eyes and tries to slip away but gets jerked backwards and all of the sudden Owen's tickling her all over again. She squeals and tries to break free but she knows it's almost impossible and she's laughing so hard it's hard to even think straight.

"No! Never!" she shouts defiant as ever.

"Say it Brooke…"

His tickling hands grope her harder and she loses the last strength when laughter overcomes her again. "I hate you…" she whines between giggles. "Rachel, heeeelp…"

But there's no response from her friend.

"Don't you think I've done this to her a million times?" Owen laughs. "She knows better than to get involved in a tickle fight with me." He's nice enough to let her breath before he comes down on her again with a new wave of tickling.

"And do you seriously think you'd have a shot at seducing any of the brothers over? Huh?" He laughs harder and snickers, "The only reason you got as far as you did with Ty was because he was a newbie. He just didn't know who you were. He's lucky that he didn't go for Raye…"

Rachel snorts something inaudible and then ice cold water pours over Owen and spilling out on Brooke. Owen gasps and lets go and Brooke shrieks. Drenched, they both look at Rachel who smirks widely with an empty bucket in her hand.

"Don't you underestimate my speed and _brains_, baby," she snickers and raises an eyebrow mockingly towards Owen. "You know that you always get in deep shit when you do."

Brooke bursts out in loud laughter, cocky now that Owens playful wrath is turned towards the redhead instead. And seconds later Rachel runs out of the kitchen with Owen hot on her heals.

Brooke walks over to the stove and moves the pots and pans away from the heat, knowing that it'll be a while before her best friend and the quarterback returns, and while she waits, she ponders if she should call Lucas.

The playfulness between Rachel and Owen has made her miss him and she's starting to feel ridiculous for taking his innocent question so seriously. So she slips her cell phone out and dials his number. Waits while the signals go through.

On the fifth ring, he finally answers.

"Hey Brooke," he says, sounding out of breath. "Can I call you back?"

Shit, she totally forgot that he said that he was going to work at Karen's.

Embarrassed that she's basically stalking him, she takes a breath. "I'm sorry," she hurries to say, "Are you working?"

"Yeah, it's a little crazy here," his tone is rushed and slightly strained.

It's quiet in the background so she figures that he's run out back to get supplies and she leans against the kitchen counter and pictures him all flushed and in that cute as hell little apron that he wears. She stifles a giggle with her hand.

"You want me to come down and help you?" she then asks and Lucas answer comes quick but soft.

"No, it's fine. I promise I'll call you later."

She's just about to insist when she changes her mind and sighs in defeat, "Fine. I'll talk to you later then, I guess."

"Okay," he agrees distractedly. The sound of crashing is suddenly heard in the background and a small curse escapes his lips.

"I'm just gonna let you go. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself there broody boy," her husky laugh is deep enough to excite even her own body. "I love you," she adds at the end.

"Yeah, you too," he promptly mumbles and before she can think to say anything else he suddenly hangs up.

She's so surprised that she doesn't even get angry.

---x---

**March 4****th**

He's not sure how he got the idea to try and get Haley James to ditch class, and he is even more surprised that she actually went along with his suggestion. Maybe there's in fact a rebel dying to get out inside the studious girl. Or maybe she was just longing for some adventure.

All he knows is that he has shit that he needs to get to the bottom of and Haley might be the key. If he can get her to trust him –considering she even _has_ the information he needs– then he might be able to straighten out this fucked up rumor that's been bugging him since yesterday.

What Vegas told him in the quad had been too ridiculous to be true, but it's been keeping him up all night and he needs to know.

So without having a real plan, he took her to his dad's beach house and offered her something to drink. He bets that she expected him to bring her a soda, because the expression on her face when he showed up on the outside porch with a bottle of rum in his hand was hesitant to say the least. But he's not the uncrowned king of Tree Hill for nothing, and after some compliments and charming reassurance, she took the first sip. Then the second, and the third…

Swaying a little she now grabs onto the railing to the steps and he smirks satisfied. She's drunk, and judging by the short amount of time it had taken, and he guesses that it's her first time.

He really doesn't want to take advantage of her like this –he likes the girl– but what was the expression? 'All is fair in love and war'? Or was it 'war and basketball'?

"My teeth are numb," Haley sighs dramatically just before her head falls back to set her face parallel to the sky.

"That's cuz you're a lightweight," he laughs softly.

"You make it sound like I'm a contender in a boxing match," she snorts then starts to laugh at her own joke.

"I've never seen you like this," he blinks over at her. Truth be told, it actually makes him think less of her.

"Well," she sighs again, "now you have." She leans in closer and rests her head against his shoulder. "I'm tired," she mumbles and relaxes more of her weight against his chest.

If he wants her to slip up and tell him more details about what he wants to know, now is the time. He licks his lips and takes a breath to prepare himself. Then he takes a swig from the bottle for luck.

"Hey Hales…" he tries, just to test the waters. "What's the deal with Lucas and Brooke? Didn't he used to have a crush on Peyton?"

Haley rolls her eyes and by doing so she almost topples over. As if the little grimace disturbs her entire balance. Maybe he went over-board when he let her drink so much? Carefully he stables her by grabbing onto her elbow but she doesn't even seem to notice.

"Yeah who would have thought?" she mutters. "Lucas dating a cheer-leader. For over _three months_…" Her shoulders goes up in a shrug and she blows out air loudly. "Ah, well. It won't last much longer."

_Now_ they're getting somewhere. Concentrating on not sounding too curious he asks "Why?" while looking out over the roaring ocean.

"Well because Lucas is a moron," she says as if that clarifies things. "I honestly don't recognize him nowadays…" She sighs and makes a face. "_Believe_ _me_, I was all against him going out with Brooke, but he _is_ dating her now, and he shouldn't run after Peyton and be all teenage horn-dog. I've told him that he needs to break up with Brooke as soon as possible."

So pretty boy had spilled about the kiss to his little best friend after all? _Good_.

She sips the bottle again and this time without him even encouraging her to do so. Then she adds "It's a really assy way to treat Brooke when she's been so nice to him."

He still needs her to say it out loud.

"What do you mean, Haley?" he asks with a soft voice full of faked concern. "You think he's thinking about _cheating_ on Brooke?"

At first she doesn't answer, she just chews on her bottom lip as if she's contemplating his question, and he curses inwardly. He moved too fast and now she was going to realize that she's sitting here with _him_, almost spilling her best friend's secrets to his biggest enemy. Maybe he had over-estimated the frail friendship he has formed with the tutor – if it can even be called that when it's all based on a lie.

To his surprise though, she opens her mouth and mutters "Thinking? I'd say that _thinking_ was what he forgot to do… and it's a little late now."

Fifteen minutes later most of the story is out and he's furious. Apparently Peyton can be even more of a conniving bitch than he had taken her for. Because what comes out of Haley's mouth is even worse than the rumors. Of course, what his blonde ex girlfriend does is none of his business, he's been on a break from the her for over two months now. And it's not as if he really cares. He's just so fucking tired of the lies she keeps pulling out of her ass.

Such bullshit. But seriously though, he shouldn't have expected anything else. From neither her nor from the loser.

Since she's drunk, Haley must not understand that she's opening the box of Pandora by telling him all this, and she happily blabbers on. Now and again he squeezes in a question or a nod, just so that she'll be satisfied, but his head is busy thinking about where this new information leaves him.

By going for Peyton, Lucas has given him the upper hand without even knowing. His bastard brother has given him the opportunity to show Brooke how much of an ass Lucas really is. The kiss would have been enough, but with what he knows now…

He's going to make sure that he uses this chance wisely.

Looks like that game of chess isn't quite over just yet.

---x---

Have you ever ditched school?


	25. Your Love Is A Lie

**AN: **Good to know that we weren't the only ones ditching in high school! LOL  
Thank you all so much for the awesome reviews. They're making us ridiculously happy. And one of these days we'll get personal thank you's up on the LJ. There's so many of you writing us these long wonderful reviews, it's just that right now we're working on getting chapter 25 and 26 post-worthy. Oh, and to cmc21 and all you other NHers; we're sorry for manipulating NH scenes. It sucked when Mark that with the BL scenes and turned them into LP, so we won't do it again. ;)

---x---

**Part 2: **_**Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 24 – **_Your Love Is A Lie_

**Junior Year**

_**March 6**__**th**___

Something's different. _He's _different. Brooke can't figure out what it is exactly but she can feel it in her gut. Something is wrong. She's worried that's it's something she's done. Or something someone has said. Either way she's been on edge and moody all morning and its pissing Rachel right the hell off.

"Just _ask _him if it bothers you so damn much," Rachel snaps at lunch that day.

"What?" she scowls over at current best friend slash roommate.

She loves Rachel, she's her best friend—more than she knows actually—and even though she wants to choke her right now, she loves her. Rachel understands her in ways that Peyton never could. She wishes there was a way to tell Rachel how much she means to her without making the poor girl uncomfortable.

But at the moment she's not feeling anything but anger towards the annoying Raggedy-Anne harlot.

"You won't shut up about how you think something is wrong with Lucas, so fucking just _ask _him." Rachel says this as if it's just that easy. "Besides, if you don't then I will. I can't stand you like this and if you keep me up _one _more damn night with your tossing and turning—"

"I can always go home and sleep in my own bed if you like," Brooke bats her lashes sarcastically.

Rachel glares at her, "Go talk to your stupid boyfriend Brooke."

She sighs and bangs her head down onto the table, "I can't. What if he breaks up with me? What if he doesn't want to be with me anymore? What if he's finally realized that I'm not good enough?" She confesses to Rachel in horror. "Oh my god I don't think I could take that." She gasps.

"Shut the hell up and talk to him," Rachel rolls her eyes, "and if I ever hear you talk like that again I'm going to get to kick Luke's ass."

Brookes head flies up, "Why Lucas?"

Rachel looks at her pointedly, "Because you never used to talk like this before, not until you started to date Lucas."

She says nothing in return and it doesn't matter because now Lucas is making his way over with his tray of food. "Hey pretty girl," he leans over and kisses her lips gently. "Rachel," he nods.

"Whatever," Rachel grunts and pushes up from the bench, "I'm gonna go sit with Bevin. I've suddenly lost my appetite." She leaves them sitting at the table alone.

"Did I say something?" Lucas scoffs.

Brooke shakes her head.

Rachel has a problem with just about everything he does. It's like pulling teeth to get that girl to like him. He doesn't understand it, everyone likes him. He's a nice guy. He frowns down at his pizza and tries to ignore the little voice of shame teasing him in the back of his mind.

Then he looks at Brooke, she's staring off into space with an expression he's never seen on her face before. It makes him wonder what's on her mind.

"What's wrong?" he asks her as he lifts a slice of pizza up to his mouth. "You look sad," he frowns as he takes a bite.

She doesn't know if she should say something or not. Actually, she doesn't know much about anything right now and it's killing her. He's not doing anything specific to warrant her suspicions but she _knows _that something is wrong. Call it women's intuition or whatever but she knows that she's not getting the big picture.

"I'm fine," she lies and bites the pizza he holds out for her to eat. She chews and licks her lips and he leans in and kisses her softly.

"You sure?" he asks her with those deep blue eyes of his. The ones that can get her to do just about anything he asks of her.

"Do you still love me?" she blurts out softly, her voice is shaky when she asks and her hands reach out to pull him back to her.

Lucas suddenly chokes on his food from shock.

"Because if you don't," she adds quickly, "I need for you to tell me now. Because I am so in love with you Lucas." Her eyes stare into his intensely.

His lips curve into a smile while his eyes squint down at her as if he both cherishes and pities her. It does nothing to help ease her nerves, or answer her question. He kisses her again and then again until they're engaged in a heated lip lock.

"How could I not?" he says between kisses.

"Let's get out of here," she says knowing he's going to refuse.

But he nods, "Okay," his hands cup her face, "let's go." They stand up and leave their plates and trash forgotten on the lunch table. His hand in hers is hot and so is hers.

Brooke throws Rachel a look that tells the redhead she needs to find an alternate ride home. When they pass Nathan she hides her face in Lucas and avoids his eyes because she knows he'll see right through her. He'll know she's vulnerable, because besides Rachel and Owen, he is the only one who's seen that side of her.

Not even Peyton has seen the full extent of her insecurities, or how hard it is every time she spews out her angry insults when she's in a bad mood. Just because she forgives, doesn't mean she forgets. Maybe she doesn't truly ever forgive at all…

"Lucas, are you sure you want to leave school? You'll miss the last three classes of the day." She stops just shy of the parking lot to see if he hesitates.

He doesn't, "I'm sure," he nods his head, "I love you." He kisses her lips quickly and squeezes her hand tighter. But instead of making her heart swell like it usually does, it makes her stomach drop to the floor full of panic. Something is wrong.

He _never _skips school.

---x---

The first thing he sees when he steps out of school and into the parking lot is Owens big black Escalade. It's towering in between Rachel's matching Denali and where Brooke's little baby blue Beetle should be, and Owen is leaning on the hood, drinking a Starbucks coffee as if the situation is completely normal.

Nathan guesses that every teenage girl who's walked past has probably stopped to gawk at the quarterback. But the guy looks careless as he casually leans back on one elbow, stunner sunglasses securely in place with a languid smirk. It's as if he's sitting on his own back porch.

The sight is serene and yet it just doesn't make sense.

Nathan looks at his wristwatch. It's just after 4pm and the girls have barely started their cheer practice. Rachel wouldn't be out for at least another hour and a half. On top of that, it's Wednesday and if he's not mistaken, Owen Morello should be at his own practice, more specifically at a muddy football field in Durham. It's not his problem though, he thinks and starts walking towards the car just as Owen looks up.

"Hey, Preppy!"

"Sup, man?" he says back and stops to lean against the SUV. "You're a little early aren't you?"

Owen stares back at him through those damn stunner glasses and even though Nathan can't read minds he bets he can guess what's running through O's at that moment. Needless to say, things around them have become a little tense. He's hardly talked to Owen in the past month. For some reason the guy has been 'busy'. And the few times that he did see him – when Nathan went up to the house to hang out with Tyler – then Owen had seemed somewhat distracted and distant.

Actually during the last week, since he ran into Elle at the frat-house, he hasn't seen Owen at all.

But today Owen just grins.

"Yeah? How so?"

"Cheer practice ends at 5:30," Nate mutters and rubs the back of his neck. "Rachel's not done."

Owens chuckle tells him that he already knows this. "I'm not here to pick up Raye," he says and throws the now empty paper cup in a perfect arc so that it lands in a nearby trashcan. "I came to hang out with you, bro."

Oh, _really_?

Nathan doesn't answer the comment because it feels whiny and childish to point out that the quarterback hasn't had time for him in weeks. Instead he leans against the car's front and inspects the new rims.

"Nice work, man. The truck's looking good."

Even though he plays it as if he's nonchalant and disinterested, he's actually missed hanging out with the older guy and maybe he's translucent because Owen straightens up and pulls off his shades.

"Been a while, Prep. How's life? I haven't seen you around in a minute," his eyebrow shoots up in question, "What, you get tired of our frat-parties?"

The parking lot is empty but Nathan still looks around for eavesdroppers out of pure habit. "No need to fake it, O," he mutters back. "You know that it's hard to hang out at the parties when Brooke's there. And you have Rachel. What was I supposed to do? Tag along as the fifth wheel?"

Owen tries to look like he doesn't know what he's talking about but Nathan shrugs it off with an annoyed scowl. "Brooke probably told you about the end of our 'deal' in detail herself, and if she didn't, then Rachel did." He kicks the gravel on the ground before he adds a sarcastic, "You're okay with the switch though, right? I mean, you get to hang out with her _boyfriend_."

Now Owen is the one looking a little annoyed. "You serious?" he mutters and pushes off the hood of his truck to stand closer directly in front of the Tree Hill senior. "Nate, man, _grow up_. You know that Rachel forced me to hang out with the guy. Plus, what the hell was _I_ supposed to do? Tell Brooke she couldn't date him? I thought we had already dealt with this?"

Nathan looks both grumpy and regretful and Owen suffers with him.

Okay, so Nathan is acting like a child but it's not like he can't see the guy's point. He gets why Nathan felt betrayed back when he saw the double-date that he and Rachel had with Brooke and Lucas. It was probably enough to have Brooke favor Lucas over him. But according to Rachel, _their_ team (Owen & Rachel), were starting to warm up to the blonde Scott. So then he went and favored Lucas as well. At least that's what Nathan thinks.

"_Team Luke or Team Nate? Don't be such a bitch, Nathan. You're better than that."_

Owen gets that it must have been a blow to Nathan's ego. And that's probably why the dude kept acting like it all meant nothing to him. Even Brooke.

Nathan squirms under Owens eye and suddenly he starts to feel like an idiot. He's not even sure why he's bringing all this up again. It's like he's deliberately picking a fight with the quarterback. And maybe it's because he knows now that Lucas _isn't_ better than him. Or because it would have been nice to have Owen in his ring-corner right now when shit was going to hit the fan.

But instead of saying any of this, Nathan shrugs and mutters, "Whatever," before hiking his gym bag up higher on his shoulder. "I just don't agree with you, that's all," he adds grumpily and starts to walk off.

"What does that mean?" Owen scoffs and turns again.

"Lucas is not the golden boy you all think he is," Nate spits angrily. "You say that he treats Brooke so good? Yeah, well I say he doesn't."

He's prepared for the sigh and the eye roll, but Owen shrugs and points towards the truck. His free hand rests gently on his stomach and he drags it casually up and down his chest as he stretches.

"You wanna tag along to KFC and eat something?" he says as if he's not at all bothered. "I'll let you trash Lucas all you want."

And it's not until twenty minutes later, when they're seated in the fast-food restaurant and halfway through a huge bucket of hot-wings, that the subject of Brooke's boyfriend is bought back up.

"So what was that you said about Lucas?" Owen asks with his mouth full of coleslaw. "Is his dick too small?"

The question catches Nathan totally off guard and he almost chokes on a chicken wing. Spitting and coughing he grabs his Pepsi and downs half of it in one go before he can get out a surprised, "What the hell kind of question is that?"

"Well," Owen shrugs seemingly unfazed, "you said that he doesn't treat her well enough and that's the only thing I could think of. Let's face it, the guy is a complete momma's boy." The quarterback licks hot sauce from his fingers and waits expectantly. "What else could it be, Prep? The dude practically lives to carry around Brooke's book bag. He throw's 'I love you's around like sprinkles when she's in the room."

Nathan snorts back annoyed and shoves the bucket towards Owen, suddenly he's not all that hungry anymore.

"Of course the idiot isn't satisfying her," he mutters coldly, "but that's not the problem I'm referring to, okay?"

Owen raises an eyebrow. "Then what, man?"

"Just forget it."

The whole idea of telling Owen what Haley spilled suddenly seems ridiculous. But his college friend trains his gaze on him and repeats the question.

"What?"

There's an underlying seriousness in the single word. As if what Owen really wants to say is 'if you know anything that could hurt Brooke, then you better spill before I break your neck' and if he didn't know the quarterback he might even have felt a little threatened.

"Let's just say that Lucas stays true to the family name and that he could burn her pretty bad."

"How so?" Owen probes further.

Sighing Nathan leans back in his chair, contemplating if there's even a way to tell Owen without having it sound as if he's made the whole thing up.

But nothing _but _the truth comes to mind, "So, I'm getting tutored by this girl," he starts and scratches his neck absentmindedly, "and she's kinda the loser's best friend…"

Owen brings his hands up onto the table and clasps them together as he leans in to listen closely, but he says nothing.

"It's not that I'm using her or anything like that," he continues and even though they both know it's a huge _lie _neither of them touches that particular topic, "I just wanted to tick off Lucas so I've been flirting around with her a bit."

"And?" Maybe it's in his head but it feels like Owen suddenly looks a little disapproving. "What? You slept with her?"

"No," he shakes his head, still trying to figure out if he really should be telling Owen this.

A week ago he wouldn't have hesitated, but the last few days he's been thinking. How well does he really know Owen? With what he saw the other night, Owen might be cheating on his own girlfriend.

"Never mind," Nathan mumbles and scrapes his fork over his coleslaw, "getting a bit crowded at the Sigma NU house though, don't you think?" he says without looking up.

"What?" the guy across the table asks in confusion. "I thought we were talking about Lucas?"

"Maybe now we're talking about you…" he trails off.

Owen waits patiently for him to continue, slurping his soda loudly like a little kid, but when Nathan goes silent and just seems to abandon the conversation in favor of making patterns in his mashed potato with the gravy, that's when Owen knows that he needs to deal with the elephant in the room.

Usually Nathan relies on his advice and he likes that the younger guy usually comes to him with what's on his mind almost as if he's the big brother. But since the other night, when Nathan bumped into Elle at the Sigma Nu House, he hasn't spoken to the kid and maybe he should have. His life is going to become all kinds of complicated if Nathan breathes about any of this to Rachel or Brooke.

"Listen ," he mutters and leans in a little over the table. "I love Rachel, okay? Having Elle over the other night meant nothing. You do understand that, right?"

Nathan looks back at Owen over the table and contemplates what the hell he should do. Since when does he care if _anyone _is cheating? Lucas, Owen or whoever? It's not like he's been the saint of faithfulness himself.

But when it comes down to it, he shrugs and keeps playing with his food and instead of telling Owen the whole story about Lucas, like he had planned, he tests the water with the short version.

"Well, Haley might have mentioned something about Lucas hooking up with some other chick… but it could be just a party rumor."

He wants to see how Owen reacts to the information before he drops what he really knows.

Owen frowns and starts to say something but then his phone buzzes with an incoming message and the quarterback reads it and instantly becomes distracted. While texting back he starts to get up from the table. "Hey, Prep," he says absentmindedly, "Only half of the gossip you hear is true, you know?" and then he mutters an excuse about having to be somewhere and leaves.

And Nathan throws his fork in his mashed potatoes and sighs in frustration.

There is seriously _something_ wrong with Owen Morello. With all the stuff he kept throwing around about looking out for Brooke and Rachel, the guy seems awfully nonchalant when push comes to shove.

It doesn't matter either way. Without the Owens help he just needs to take matters into his own hands. And he has a plan.

---x---

**March 7****th**

The day's almost over by the time Haley finally works up the courage to say what's been on her mind for almost two weeks. She'd been over it a thousand times in her head and every outcome is the same. Ugly, messy, and horrible.

She had vented some of it to Nathan. How much, Haley's not sure because she had been drunk. And although it'd been nice to talk to him, she still felt like an ass the next day because she had spilling secrets about Lucas to him and she's not sure if Nathan is going to them against Lucas in their half-brother warfare.

So now she's turning to a better confidant. One that knows Lucas better. A more _neutral_ one.

"Hey Jake," she asks as they both wipe down the tables in Karen's café, "we're friends, right?" she stands waiting for his reply.

Jake hesitates and slowly brings his rag wiping to a stop, "Uhh," his eyes dart around the empty coffee shop, "yeah?" he replies feeling somewhat confused.

"And friends," she pauses, "they talk about stuff, right?"

He sighs and walks over to the front counter, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she says far too quick to be truthful. Her response is more of a defense mechanism than a straight answer.

"Haley," he frowns, "I thought we were _friends_."

She drops her dish towel and rolls her eyes, "Well if you're going to just mock me then forget it."

"Alright, I'm sorry," he hides a laugh with a smile. "Come on Hales, talk to me. What's wrong?" He pats the counter for her to sit on her stool across from him.

"I need some advice," she sighs. "I have a friend—"

"Haley," Jake groans, "is this one of things where you tell me your friend has a problem and then it ends up really being about _you?_" he asks.

"No," she shakes her head.

"Oh," he looks down embarrassed, "then continue."

She rolls her eyes and does as he says.

"My friend, he's being an idiot—a big _fat_ idiot," she growls. "I mean, I may not have the highest opinion of his girlfriend but she doesn't deserve to be double betrayed."

Jake gets the sneaking suspicion that this conversation is about to take an ugly turn. He wants to turn around and walk away, tell her that they're not _that _good of friends. But she blinks those big brown eyes of hers at him all innocent and concerned.

"Jake," she touches his hand, "I'm worried about Luke, he's not himself and he hasn't been since—"

"Brooke?" he gulps.

She shakes her head, "No."

"Rachel?" he whispers almost desperate.

"Peyton," she spits out angry, "Peyton Sawyer."

"Haley, Luke wouldn't—"

"I _saw _them Jake!" she shrieks. "In the library during school hours. In broad daylight!"

"Stop," he frowns, "you're jumping to conclusions."

"I knew you wouldn't believe me. No one would believe me!" she shouts out in almost a panic.

"Who else knows?" he asks her, "Haley!"

"Why are you yelling at me?" she cries confused. "Jake, I need to know what to do!"

He sighs, "I'm sorry," his face becomes shameful, "I didn't mean to raise my voice." He motions her around the counter, "c'mere."

She comes closer and allows him to pull her in for a hug. She hates what's happening to Luke, she hates that she thinks he's beyond her help. When did they forget they were best friends? When Jake pulls away and sits in one of the stools, she wishes she could read minds.

Because he looks as if he's just been told his dog was run over.

"Jake," she replies gentle, "are you okay?"

He nods, "I'm fine. Disappointed, but fine," he sighs. "I really thought he was better than that. I thought _she _was better than that," he adds softly.

"What should I do?" she asks him again and sits down beside him.

Then Jake looks at her again but this time she swears she can see torment in his expression as he says, "There's nothing to do, Hales. It's already done and nothing can be done to undo it."

"But, he has to stop. I mean, he has to at least choose someone. Right?" she wonders aloud.

He shrugs, "Isn't it obvious who he's chosen? If he wanted to be with Brooke, then why is he sneaking around with Peyton?"

The anger in his tone makes her pause. Why is he so upset? Was his faith in Lucas _that _serious? She wonders but not enough to voice her concerns.

"Just let it play out, Haley," Jake tells her, "if it continues then maybe you could talk to him. Ask him what he's doing, because right now? I can guarantee you that he has _no idea _what it is he's doing."

When she looks at him she wonders if Jake says this from experience.

---x---

**March 9****th**

The first time Brooke realized that she wanted something more than just random hookups, she told Peyton when she should have just kept her mouth shut. It was a few weeks after she'd met her first brush with something resembling love, Kellan McCarty. Together inside Peyton's room where they once exchanged countless secrets, cried, laughed and sang together. Perhaps Brooke was trying to recreate what once was.

But then Peyton Sawyer threw her head back and laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes, Brooke retracted her statement almost immediately. Which was fine, because shortly after, Kellan was gone and she was back to random hookups. No strings attached, just plain good fun. That is, until the whole mess with Nathan started.

But then she met Lucas, and everything changed. Like, _really_ changed. Enough to make Brooke resurrect those feeling of wanting something more. But this time those feelings intensified into more than she ever thought possible. And when that happened, Brooke told the girl standing beside her as they watched Lucas bend over the hood of her best friend's black Mercury Comet.

So when Peyton lied to her face moments after, Brooke grinned like an idiot and squealed. She had no idea that Peyton and Lucas would soon mess around behind her back. Just like Peyton had no clue that Brooke and Nathan had screwed behind hers.

The tangled webs that weaved were forming knots.

"Tell me you're kidding," Nathan scoffs one day at school while she's putting her books into her locker before class.

"You're going to have to be more specific Nathan. Because contrary to popular belief, I cannot read minds." She smirks and starts to close her locker shut before turning to glare at him.

But Nathan swings the door open again, pointing at all the photo booth pictures taped to the inside. Rows and rows of tiny pictures of herself and Lucas making out in front of the camera and posing with cheesy kissy-faces.

"You're with him, fine. But don't go around telling people you_ love _the loser," he looks at the photos and then down at her in disbelief. "Peyton won't shut the fuck up about it. Every other sentence is about how fucking in love you two are and how sick it makes her. You would think she's jealous or something."

Brooke's eyes flash to her right where Lucas' locker is and when she doesn't see him she bites her bottom lip. He's _always _at his locker before 3rd period. They're supposed to walk to class together. They'd been doing it since they started dating. Where the hell was he?

"Hey," Nathan pulls her chin around to look him in the face, "let's get out of here."

She blinks and shakes her head. "I have class." She starts in the direction of her calculus class. She's going to be late.

But he swings her back around and soon her back is pressed up against a wall. His lips are on hers and his hands are grabbing her flesh and squeezing tight. She shoves him off and he pulls her closer.

"Stop it!" she screams at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she hisses and looks around at the empty halls.

He swipes the back of a hand over his lips to wipe her lip gloss from his mouth. "Mr. Howard has free period right now. No one will be in his classroom, come on." He pulls her down the hall.

"I don't want to. Even _you_ said that this thing between us was _over_. Now let me go!" she struggles to free her wrist from his hold. "Nathan, did you hear me? I said I don't—"

But the words die on her lips. Because when he opens the door, the class is not empty.

"Oh my God," Brooke cries and covers her mouth with a hand.

Her heart constricts and she thinks she's going to pass out.

"You still think you love this loser?" Nathan replies pointedly and looks down at Brooke.

"You _knew?_" she says incredulously.

"The whole fucking school knew," Nathan scoffs and scowls over at the two people scrambling to compose themselves. "How long would you say Peyt? Two? Three weeks?" He raises a curious brow.

"I can't believe I trusted you," Brooke whispers at them. "I can't believe I said I _loved _you!" she shouts at Lucas angry and turns to leave.

"Brooke!" Lucas' face falls in shame before he races to chase after her.

Nathan's arm darts out to block him at the door, "Where the hell do you think you're going? Your job is here done." He scoffs and smirks at Peyton. "Both of yours." He shakes his head with a smirk and follows after Brooke.

_Checkmate_.

---x---

Her heels are the only sound in the halls of the south end of Tree Hill High. Loud clanks followed by a quick gasp. Class is still in session and instead of sitting in AP US Government, Rachel Gatina is stalking down the corridor towards the parking lot.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up B, what are you talking about? Who was kissing?" Rachel can barely wrap her mind around a single thought. Brooke is blubbering out inaudible words at warped speed and sobbing out curses left and right.

"P-Peyton and that fucker Lucas!" Brooke cries out in anger. "That two-faced blonde bitch and his slut Peyton!"

Rachel's lips curve into an amused smile. She's proud of her friends colorful choice of descriptive words for the two culprits. This means Rachel's influence has done her friend well. But soon the smirk falls from her mouth when the news starts to sink in.

"And Nathan was there?" she asks.

"Yes that asshole w-was th-there!" Brooke stutters as she fights to regain her composure. "He's known this whole time! He was j-just w-waiting to show me!" she grinds out through clenched teeth and Rachel can almost see Brooke biting down on her lip to hold back another sob.

Rachel closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She's heard the rumors that had been circulating ever since that Raven's party at Nathan's house a few weeks before. The same night Brooke ditched Lucas to 'talk to' Nathan upstairs in his bedroom. Lucas had drunkenly searched everywhere and Rachel had done her job of keeping him distracted until Brooke was back.

But at the time she's been thrown off balance by her sudden issues with Owen being so nonchalant about their relationship to his mother. When Owen had finally built up the balls to ask her what her problem was, Rachel quickly pawned a very drunk Lucas off on Bevin, who passed him onto Theresa who wasn't listening and somehow he'd ended up in a game of spin the bottle with Peyton. All the while, Rachel and Owen were engaged in one legendary verbal brawl complete with their usual outcome of fucking in the back seat of his SUV. She hated how irresistible he was when she'd been drinking—or just in general.

So now Rachel feels slightly responsible for Brooke's current distress.

"Where are they now?" Rachel sighs and runs her fingers through her long scarlet locks.

"How the fuck should I know?" Brooke snaps. "I left them all in that damn room and now I'm waiting for your fat ass to come and get me the hell out of here! Damn you Rachel, I knew we shouldn't have driven to school together today! I knew I should have taken my own car!"

"Chill out," Rachel grimaces, "I'm here." She slaps her phone shut and approaches Brooke with a look of disappointment.

Has she taught Brooke nothing? _Never _let a guy know he's gotten to you.

"You look like shit," she mutters and presses button on her key ring to unlock the doors on her Denali. "God, you're pathetic," she scowls, "get in before someone sees you." She motions for Brooke to enter through the door she's opened for her.

"Thank you." Is all Brooke manages to whisper as she follows Rachel's orders without a fight. It's because of this that Rachel knows things are worse than she'd first imagined.

Now Rachel feels completely responsible for her friend's passive state—not slightly.

_Completely_.

---x---

He gets as far as the parking lot before he starts to feel the first wave of guilt. He shouldn't have done things the way he had. He should have sat her down and told her instead of tricking her.

But Nathan has never been one to act according to the feelings of others. All that mattered was how he felt and what the outcome would mean to _him_. Nathan was selfish. He never told or let anyone else think otherwise. Why lie? It was all about him. All for one and one for Nathan Royal Scott.

"Rachel!" He calls out when he sees her rounding the back of her Denali, keys in hand and blank expression in place.

She knows.

"Rachel, wait. Have you seen Brooke?" he dares to take her wrist and pull her around to face him. "I need to talk to her, its important."

"You have a lot of nerve," she scoffs in disbelief. "Contrary to what your warped mind believes? This is _not _the way to win her. You handled this situation horribly. I could not have done a shittier job myself." Rachel snatches her wrist free of his hold. "And as for telling you where she is? You can go fuck yourself. You don't deserve to see her."

"Are you mad at me because of how I did this? Or are you mad at the fact that I had the guts to show her the truth? Whereas you're still trying to find excuses on how none of this is your fault?" Nathan sneers. "You are just as responsible for this as I am," he whispers.

Her hand darts out to shove him out of her way before she tells him to go to hell. But Nathan refuses to end the scuffle there. He grabs her arm and pulls her back around to face him once more. Angry at her for allowing this to happen and furious at himself for caring so damn much about any of it.

"Where is she?" he hisses in her face.

"Let go of me," Rachel's eyes blaze with a fire so intense her dark russet irises turn gold like the tip of a flame.

"I mean it Rachel, where is she?" he growls.

"Fu—"

"I'm right here," Brooke's raspy tone makes Rachel's mouth snap shut.

"Brooke, let's go," Rachel shrugs away from Nathan and approaches Brooke to push her back towards the car.

But Brooke's had enough of everyone's damn secrets.

"What is he talking about?" she demands of Rachel.

"Brooke, please. Not here," Rachel shakes her head.

"Why not right here?" Nathan crosses his arms over his chest. "I think here is as good as any," he shrugs.

"Because class is about to be let out in like five minutes you fucking _moron _and I really don't want them to see what a mess Brooke is!" Rachel points at Brooke and it's then that Nathan realizes how upset she is.

"Brooke," his face falls into a painful frown. He reaches out to touch her face, his thumb rubbing away a streak of mascara. "I'm so sorry baby," he whispers and places his other hand on the other side of her face.

"Don't touch her," Rachel pulls them apart. "You are the reason she's like this!"

"Rachel," Brooke cringes.

"Get in the car Brooke. I mean it." Rachel shoots a look at her best friend. "And you?" she whirls around to Nathan. "I have nothing to say to you because you make me sick."

"Rachel, stop." Brooke whispers but she's unheard by the two arguing teens in front of her. "Rachel…" she tries again.

"She has a right to know! I admit I fucked up when I showed her but you fucked up when you left Lucas with Peyton so you could go fuck Owen!" Nathan roars back.

"You son of a—"

"_Rachel!_" Brooke screams.

All eyes are on Brooke. Including the ones of the students who have begun to trickle out of class. She wants to demand an explanation right there and then but Rachel is right. Now is not the time. She's too hysterical, she looks like crap and if she looks into Nathan's eyes one more time she's going to lose it.

Rachel takes a step towards Brooke and waits for her to speak again. She doesn't know what to do because she feels as if she's messed up royally. It doesn't help that somehow Nathan knows this and is using it to get back into Brooke's good graces.

"Yeah, B?" she asks wearily as Nathan stands back in wait.

"Take me home," Brooke says and closes herself back up into Rachel's truck.

---x---

As soon as Lucas hears Haley clear her throat behind him in the cafeteria, he knows that its coming. He knows that word has spread about his indiscretions and found the ear of his childhood friend.

And he already knows that she's disappointed–she made that clear days ago when he told her what had happened with Peyton at the party. But when he tiredly turns to face his best friend, he's met with something he's not used to.

Haley looks completely furious.

"Lucas Eugene Scott!" her eyes pierce into his and he cringes. "I cannot _believe_ you!"

Apparently the friend he'd hope on having in her is reduced to an acquaintance at best. Because she looks as if she's disgusted enough by him to reevaluate their friendship entirely.

"I thought you said that it was a _mistake_ when you got with Peyton at the party?" she barks. "And then I see you kissing her in the library and you _swore_ to me that it wouldn't happen again!" People around them turn by the sound of her angry high-pitched tone and he bites his lip in shame but Haley continuous, "Now I hear that you got caught–by _Brooke_–making out with Peyton in an _empty classroom?! _Have you completely lost your freaking mind?"

"Hales…" he mumbles, "Keep it down, okay?"

The whole thing is bad enough as it is and he just wants to stay in denial and pretend that it never happened. Pretend that Brooke hadn't walked in on him and Peyton, right in the middle of something totally forbidden. Something that he had been trying to stop–but a heated make-out never the less.

It's just that it's useless to pretend since his entire body is screaming that he's just made the biggest mistake in his life.

For the last three hours he's wanted nothing but to get out of this school-building to go find Brooke and try to explain, but he knows that it's no use. The look in his girlfriend's eyes had been enough to tell him to back off. On top of that, Rachel was probably with her by now, and the redhead would most definitely punch his lights out if he as much as tried to go near Brooke.

_You're gonna hurt her. And when you do, I'm going to be the one comforting her and biting my lip so that I don't say I told you so._

"I didn't mean to do it…" he mutters shamefully in a lower voice. "Okay? It was all a huge mistake."

Haley laughs dryly and squints. "So were you drunk today as well, or were you just plain stupid?"

He deserves that one. Deep inside, he knows that he deserves much worse. Because he had been far from comatose at that party where this shit had all started.

He swallows and feels himself shrink under Haley's angry stare. There's nothing to say, yet he hears himself mumbling "I'm sorry, Hales. I'm a jerk…"

A white flag? Apparently not one that's big enough.

"Really? Because to me it sounds like you're an _asshole_. All this time you've been telling me to keep away from Nathan because you think he's bad news… and then…" she breathes out and seemingly tries to calm down in order not to yell at him. "You know?" she says in a lower voice. "When you got together with Brooke, I _knew_ that it would end badly. I just never imagined that the one to screw it all up would be _you_!"

Embarrassed he looks down at his feet. He watches his sneakers in silence as if they are the most interesting thing on the planet, while wishing that there was something legit he could say to his defense. _Anything_. But there isn't.

"I don't…" he starts. "I mean, I know that I shouldn't have done it." His cheeks turn red because whatever he says, it just sounds wrong. Yet it's the only way he can explain it. "It's just that Peyton _needs_ me… Brooke is always so… uhm… so…"

Haley looks back at him expectantly, foot tapping impatiently as always when she's angry or frustrated with him.

"So _what_?" she urges him on. "So independent? So cheery? So competent? _What_, Lucas?"

He sighs. Stares at his shoes even more intently. What can he answer to that?

Haley huffs and rolls her eyes. "Okay," she says, "so Brooke might not have been at the top of my list of favorite people. But if you're trying to say that you cheated on your girlfriend—for the third time, that I _know_ of, I might add—just because she can take care of herself, then that's _seriously_ unfair!"

When his best friend puts it like that, his whole defense sounds even more stupid, and he sighs.

"I wish I could take it all back," he mumbles. "I wish I hadn't listened to Peyton in the first place." Looking up to finally meet Haley's eyes, he adds "I should have trusted Brooke more. It's just that sometimes it felt like she was hiding something from me. It felt like she was…"

He stops. He wants to say that sometimes it felt like she was hiding 'someone' from him, but that would just come off as another lame way to try and justify what he's done. Because if he's being honest with himself he has no proof of Brooke ever having cheated on him. He even has to admit that the flirting with Tyler appeared almost harmless.

Haley however reads him like an open book.

"You know what Lucas? If you were worried that Brooke was seeing someone else behind your back, then I guess that you two are even now. I mean, you have mentally cheated on her since you two first got together."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on! You've been comparing her to Peyton in _everything_." She rolls her eyes and flicks her hair back in a very Brooke'ish way. "You've been measuring them against each other as if this was a competition from the get go. And don't say that isn't true because I _know_ you Lucas."

Touché.

"And if I regret making the wrong choice?" he mutters silently and looks down the now emptying school cafeteria, unconsciously searching for a dimpled brunette that is probably far away by now.

Haley gives him a long look. And then for the first time since she approached him, she puts her hand on his arm and pats it comfortingly.

"Buddy… then I'd say you're screwed."

---x---

He's just out of the shower and it's not really late. Maybe a quarter past nine in the evening. Yet when he hears the knock on the door, he's a little surprised.

He makes it down the stairs without a hurry and saunters over to the door but before he has time to open it, the knock comes again.

"Hey chill, alright! I'm coming!"

Still rubbing his hair with the towel, he swings the door open and he's met by the sight of Brooke. And if the fact that she's even there isn't weird enough, since she hasn't really talked to him since the night at his party two months ago, then the tears certainly do the trick. Brooke Davis is crying her freaking eyes out and she doesn't seem to care that he sees her do it either.

"Ehum… Davis? What are you doing here?" he mumbles, and it worries him a little that she's not looking angrier. He's expected the silent-treatment for weeks after the drama this afternoon. But instead more tears stream down her face and he feels uncomfortable. Crying girls are not on the top of his favorite-list and with Brooke it's even worse because during all the years he's known her, he's never actually seen her cry. Well other than fake tears to get out of detention.

Slightly vulnerable, yes. Bawling like this? Not even close.

She sobs and wipes her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater.

"You… should have… told me…" she gets out. "You all… went behind…my back… and…"

The end of the sentence gets caught in a new batch of tears and he finally snaps out of his confusion and pulls her into the hallway.

"Hey Brooke, breathe…"

Awkwardly he throws an arm around her shoulder and hugs her towards his chest. "Lucas is an ass… But I honestly didn't know how to tell you, okay?"

Everything turned out wrong today. When he outed Lucas and Peyton this afternoon he had thought that Brooke would be furious. That she'd realize what a moron and an asshole the guy is and dump him on the spot.

He hadn't expected her to run off like she did and he never thought it would make her break down like this. Seeing her now makes him think that Rachel had been right for yelling at him. He should have Brooke down and told her in a much more gentle way. It's just that after Owen's comment about not believing everything you hear, he just figured that 'seeing was believing'.

"Both you and Rachel are cowards!" she spits back before a new wave of tears forces her to breathe deeply. "You knew I loved him…"

Feeling a little helpless he rubs Brooke's back and tries to get her to pull herself together. "Come on B, calm down. I mean, what did you expect? They hang out all the time… I told you a hundred times that my brother was bad news…"

Maybe if she would have listened to him, this wouldn't have happened. But she's hardly talked to him at all lately or even looked at him. Since she hooked up with Lucas, Brooke had been off the market in more ways than one. And that makes holding her feel even more intense when she buries her head into the fabric of his t-shirt, suddenly looking so much more innocent and fragile than she has in years.

"It wasn't fair, Nate… It was… I _hate_ you…"

What the fuck? Hate _him_? How the hell did this end up being _his_ fault?

Brooke still looks crushed and this is probably the first time he's seen her with her make-up messed up and her clothes out of style. He realizes that right now he's actually more pissed at Peyton than at Lucas. It's crappy the way his brother made Brooke think that he was into her, when it was obviously just a case of teenage horniness. But Peyton probably knew that this would crush Brooke and however much of a hypocrite that makes him, he still can't understand how Peyton could go behind Brooke's back like this.

Of course, the worst thing was that everybody had seen the eyes Lucas had been throwing after Peyton, and since Peyton hadn't given it up... well, Brooke was pretty much the safe bet. Now it seems like his blonde ex-girlfriend might have stopped being such a prude.

He places a soft kiss on her hair and rocks her back and forth while contemplating saying sorry. But Nathan Scott never says sorry and at the last second he goes for something completely different, something that he hopes Brooke will recognize as a white flag of peace.

"You wanna get drunk?" he asks in an unusually gentle voice. It's the only thing he can think of, or let's face it, it's what _he_ would have done it he had been humiliated like she had today. Yet he's clearly surprised when her back straightens and she answers;

"Hell yes."

---x---

The dishes clink in the sink as she scrubs the rough side of a sponge against her mother's porcelain plates. The remains of a broken glass lay in shards at the bottom of the trash and the sink is filled with even more expensive delicates. Crystal champagne flutes, hand painted China, special edition plate ware to match what was once used in the white house…

Her mother had once had a habit of staying up late at night watching infomercials while waiting for her father to come. Which resulted in the house always being fully stocked with useless appliances. Although when Rachel was nine, she did enjoy the sounds of the 70's records set.

When the dishes do nothing to help clear her mind she moves onto wiping the counters. Then she's cleaning out the fridge and moping the floor and dusting the living room picture frames. And she does all of this while Owen patiently sits at the kitchen counter flipping through his statistics textbook. Every now and again he'll frown at its pages and give the impression that the complexity of its contents makes no damn sense.

But none of this means anything to Rachel, because she's pissed off.

Who the hell did Nathan think he was blaming the whole Lucas/Peyton debacle on her? So she left the grown ass boy alone for a second. It wasn't her fault that Peyton would choose that time to pounce. It wasn't her fault that Brooke had been preoccupied with Nathan upstairs doing only God knew what. She doesn't buy Brooke's explanation of _arguing over being civil_.

"Civil, my _ass_," she mutters under her breath while scrubbing the counter around Owens study area. "There is no damn way she and Nathan were just _arguing_," she scowls and lifts Owens arm to wipe the counter top.

"Mmm hmm," he agrees and turns a page in his textbook.

"And I did _not _leave Lucas with Peyton," she growls, "he is not my responsibility and where he puts his pecker is _especially _not my responsibility."

"Yep, you're right," Owen nods and scribbles down something in his study guide.

She pauses to rinse out her rag, "I know Brooke asked me to keep an eye on him but seriously, come _on!_ I really didn't think leaving him alone for a few minutes while you and I had sex would be such a _fucking _disaster!"

"You are so right, babe," Owen nods his head without once looking away from his notes.

"Nathan is such an asshole, he knew about this the whole damn time and yet it's _my _fault?" she scoffs in disbelief, "I barely found out about a _rumor _that something may have been going on last week. But I really didn't see the reason in getting B all worked up if it turned out to be crap. You know?"

"Uh, huh," Owen utters.

Rachel drops her cleaning gear into the sink, "Are you even _listening _to me?!" she screams out at him angrily.

Owen's pen slides free from his fingers and rolls into the middle of his book, then he sighs and looks up at his lovely girlfriend. "Nathan blames you for leaving Lucas in Peyton's care while you and I left the party to have sex. But you say Lucas is grown up enough to take care of himself. You didn't think Peyton would take advantage of him while Brooke was just upstairs arguing with Nathan—an act that you don't believe they were doing. You just recently heard a rumor that Luke and Peyton may have had a thing on the side but you didn't want to worry little B about it until you were sure it was true."

His brow rises as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, "How was that for listening?" his smirk makes her want to hit him. "And I even got a few sections answered in my study guide," he winks.

"Don't be such a smart ass," she scowls with narrowed eyes.

He chuckles and stands up from his seat to circle the counter and wrap his arms around her from behind. "What happened was not your fault," he kisses her neck, "okay?" his lips move upwards to whisper into her ear.

She wants desperately to believe him. But she can't, Brooke had specifically asked her to watch Lucas and what had she done?

"Stop," Owen growls suddenly and tightens his grip around her, "stop blaming yourself for this. Look, what Nathan did was shitty. He shouldn't have revealed something this big to Brooke in the way he did. He could have talked to you first or God forbid—asked Lucas or Peyton."

Rachel snorts. "Yeah, right."

"Brooke doesn't blame you," he tells her.

"You don't know that," Rachel replies, "she hasn't spoken to me since we got home and she left shortly after that."

"She just needs to clear her head first," his words do nothing to help calm her, "come on, Raye. If Brooke were mad, don't you think she would be yelling and screaming at you right now?"

"Yeah," Rachel rolls her eyes, "you're right. But…" she bites her bottom lip, "I can't help but feel like I let her down somehow."

Owen kisses the side of her face, "Babe, you couldn't let that girl down if you tried. She's your weak spot, Palomita."

"I hate when you call me that," she mumbles.

"Little dove? Why? I think it's cute," he kisses her cheek again, "just like you're acting right now. All concerned for little B," he chuckles in her ear.

"Shut up," she laughs and turns around in his arms.

He leans down and she lifts her chin, "Kiss me," he smirks.

"No, _you _kiss _me_," her grin widens.

"Mmm… okay," he gives in and does as she asks.

---x---

They're in the back of his car, drunk and half naked, and his hands are igniting fires everywhere on her skin. She's not crying anymore. She stopped after the third tequila, but the pain still lingers. It hurts so fucking much that Lucas beat her in her own game. Lucas was supposed to be the one to 'save her', to take her away from all the drinking and the parties and the slutty rumors. He was the first guy she had trusted enough to give her heart to, and now she knows firsthand how immensely stupid that move had been.

"_I give a rat's ass about you too…"_

Yeah right.

She should have _known_ that she's not cut out to be the loved girlfriend. She's just the sexy and slutty cheerleader that all the boys wanted to get with and she shouldn't try to step out of character. Just like Nathan said after the third drink, she should have known that Lucas just wanted to get into her pants. What else?

If nothing else, then she should have learned from her collision course with Nathan. He and Lucas shared the same genes after all.

Her hand finds Nathan's belt-buckle and while his hands get reacquainted with her naked upper body, she pulls the belt out of the loops of his jeans. He mumbles stuff silently against her skin and with one hand working his zipper she grabs his hair with the other hand and moans.

She might be drunk but even in the daze of the alcohol she realizes that her body has missed Nathan's touch. And when he angles them so that his weight rests on top of her and bites down on that sensitive spot on her neck, the images of Peyton and Lucas kissing disappear so far back into her mind that she can breathe again. Clenching her eyes shut to get rid of the last memories, she rakes her nails down his shoulders and grabs his back by sliding her fingers into the valley between his back-muscles.

"More…" she breaths and pulls him closer, "I need… _more_."

She had given up sex with Nathan for the sake of the stupid blond brooder and it had blown up in her face. In a twisted way it therefore feels right to do this. Let the anger and frustration out by going back to fucking Nathan, because _nothing_ would kill Lucas more.

And that's what she holds onto when she slides his jeans down over his ass. A million tequila-shots hadn't managed to rid her of the humiliation she feels over believing Lucas' lies. But Nathan's hands can.

It's been too long and at least with Nate it's honest. He wants her body and he shows it. He never tried to mask it up with pretty words and lies about love.

"Oh fuck…" he grunts when she presses her pelvis against his hard-on and he breathes heavily in her ear. The sound makes her press even closer to him but she knows that this is bad. That she really shouldn't do this. When she got serious with Lucas, she had made a silent wove to never have sex with Nathan Scott again. It's just that her drunk mind and broken heart needs to erase Lucas. Needs to feel something else…

Something _real_.

And this, right here, _is_ real. What Nathan is giving her might be jaded and dirty and purely physical but it's not stuffed with false promises.

He curses again, kind of as if he too is trying not to get pulled into this, and then flips them over on the leather seat so that she's on top.

"I wanted to do this when I'm sober, Brooke… this won't last long… just don't –"

He doesn't get further because she grinds into him again and his sentence fades out in a long strained breath.

"Don't talk so much," she whispers. "Just do me."

Somewhere in the back of her blurry mind she wonders why she doesn't miss Lucas' gentle touch and soft lips, but when Nathan grabs her harder and hisses "I fucking adore your ass" then she forgets Lucas completely. _This_ is what she needs tonight. Hardcore sex. Not sweet words and soft caresses that mean nothing when it comes down to it.

It's not until afterwards - when she struggles to regain her breathing and Nathan drapes an arm over her - that she thinks about Lucas again. She fights it but her mind still wanders and for the millionth time she questions what she did wrong. What it was that she didn't have. And maybe Nathan sees her inwardly battle because he repositions himself so that he can look at her and asks, "Hey, what's wrong?"

It's dark in the car and she's thankful because any trace of pity in his eyes and she'd be back to tears. Instead she reaches for her clothes and whispers, "Nothing." But he grabs her wrist and stops her.

"Listen," he mumbles, "I'm really sorry for what happened. I mean, I'm not sorry that you realized what a complete sucker Lucas is, but I _am_ sorry for the way I told you. Okay?"

His arm is still circled around her and his fingers still move somewhat unconsciously over her skin.

"Its fine," she answers with a much calmer voice that what she expected to manage, "You got what you wanted, right? Lucas and I are over."

"It was never like that."

She can hear the frown in his voice and she's sober enough to know that she's being unfair. It wasn't Nathan's fault that she had been silly and naïve enough to get fooled by Lucas, just as little as it had been Rachel's fault for not looking after Lucas at the party.

It's just that right now she's too vulnerable to try and explain this to him.

"How long have you known?" she asks instead and Nathan's fingers stops. He pauses a little too long before answering and she bites her lip in wait.

"There was a rumor going around right after the party," he mumbles. "You know, after the Sherman Oaks game? But I thought that it was just what it was, a _rumor_."

He shifts on the seat and unconsciously he runs his fingers through her hair. "But then Vegas told me about it a couple of days after and according to him, people had seen Peyton kiss Lucas," he lowers his voice because he doesn't really want her to hear him. It'll only make her sad again. But at the same time he knows that if he lies, then she'll hate him for it. "Vegas said that they'd been seen slipping into a guestroom and –"

He stops and Brooke seems to be frozen in the same spot.

"And?" she whispers.

He swallows silently because he's just realized that Brooke could blame him for this. If he hadn't asked her to come talk to him, then this might not have happened.

"And they were in there for a long time."

He lets that sentence speak for itself and keeps brushing his fingers through her hair. He says nothing about Haley and what she told him. For now this is enough.

And maybe Brooke's even grateful for the way she knows that he's filtering the information. Because right now she has two choices if she wants to escape a new wave of humiliated tears: either let that straying hand of Nathan's keep touching her so that the thoughts of Lucas betrayal stays in the back of her head or go home and down the rest of her father's scotch. And for some reason – she's not sure she could explain it even to herself if she was sober – the first alternative doesn't seem fair to Nathan.

So instead she detangles from his hold and starts getting dressed. He sighs and does the same and minutes later they're both buckled in, in the front seat, and Nathan starts the car to drive her home to Rachel's house. That is, until about halfway there when she decides she wants to go _home_. He looks at her funny, 'home' is not quite the word he'd call that house but he takes her there nonetheless.

No words are needed. To this boy she doesn't have to explain that although her own house is empty and that she doesn't like to stay there alone, she really doesn't want to face Rachel after what she's done with Nathan. She also doesn't want to see Rachel and Owen interact, because even though seeing them together usually makes her feel comfortable and safe, tonight it would just make her feel sad.

And when Nathan pulls onto the road that will lead her to the house with the infamous red door, she is thankful that she doesn't have to say, 'thanks for the drinks and the sex,' and he doesn't have to lie and tell her that he'll call her tomorrow.

He knows that this night will stay a secret, just like every other hook-up they've had in the past, and he knows that they'll most likely never talk about this again.

But when she slips out of his car and onto the Davis driveway, she does tell him one thing.

"I don't trust you anymore."

She doesn't trust Lucas either of course, but that's beside the point.

As she closes the car door she can hear Nathan mutter, "He's such an idiot…" or at least that's what it sounds like he says.

She figures that he means 'for giving up a great piece of ass' because this has nothing to do with her heart. Lucas couldn't see her heart even though she practically threw it in his face.

And Nathan never wanted it in the first place.

---x---

**Q**: Would you tell your friend that their boyfriend/girlfriend was cheating on them?

/L & E


	26. Everybody Is Someone Else’s Secret

You all are some good friends! Pretty much 99% of you would tell your friend if their bf/gf was cheating. Shoot, some of you have even been in situations where you had to go through that process of telling or not. Multiple kudos for being awesome in yet another way besides being amazing reviewers. ;)

*Special A/N bottom of ch.*

---x---

**Part 2: **_**Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 25 – **_**Everybody Is Someone Else's Secret**_

**Junior Year**

---x---

_**March 10**__**th**_

She stretches her fingers out at her sides and tries her hardest not to clench them into fists. She's actually a little relieved that her heartbroken roommate isn't in school today. Because she has an agenda and she has to stick to the plan. Giving into her deepest desires will not help anything. Especially _Brooke_.

She's waited patiently for this. Nearly 28 hours, to be exact. Usually she would have had the culprits on their knees directly after finding out the truth of their wrongdoings but Brooke had been a mess yesterday and Rachel would never let anyone see her friend as anything less than the strong and independent girl that she is.

Now an entire day has gone by and she's decided that enough time has passed between now and then. The excitement of a public brawl has diminished over the day – especially since Brooke never showed up – and not many Tree Hill students follow her around campus looking for a fight at four o'clock in the afternoon. School's out and everyone is gone but for the ones attending club meetings or sport practices.

A fact that she has of course planned for.

"Hey!" Rachel calls out as she catches Lucas coming out of the boys' locker room.

She can see him stiffen at the sound of her voice and his shoulders visibly tense up as he pauses to look at her. It might have been a whole day since he was being caught with Peyton but she bets that it has probably really started to sink in that the blonde was a mistake he wants nothing more than to take back. At least that's what it looks like when she watches his facial expression.

He looks like it wasn't worth it.

Like all he wants to do is take it all back. But she doesn't fall for it and she doesn't pity him.

He should have fucking known better than to cheat on her best friend and his sad face only pisses her off more.

"Look Rachel, I already know I screwed up," he starts as she comes closer, "I don't need—"

"Shut up," she barks and his mouth snaps shut on demand. A scowl takes over his features but he remains silent. "I told you that you were going to hurt her," she laughs at him bitterly, "I warned you and what did you say to me?"

"Rachel, I—"

"What did you _say,_ Lucas?!" she shouts.

Truthfully, he must be surprised that this confrontation hadn't occurred sooner, yet he still seems lost for words.

"I said I wouldn't do that," he mutters and hangs his head.

"You not only lied to me, you lied to _Brooke_. I cannot believe I actually fell for your little speech. For a while there, you made me think that you were the one for her. Did you know that?" her voice grows higher by the second and Lucas glances around them, probably to see how many people are watching.

"Rachel, maybe we should talk somewhere els—"

"Stop talking," her barks and her hand flies up, "did I say you could speak? No. I didn't. So shut the fuck up. When I want you to talk I'll wave a Scooby snack in your face like the _dog _that you are."

Her tone is fierce and something resembling of anger passes over his face. "You know what Rachel?" he spits, "None of this is really any of your business, now is it? So why don't you try living a life of your own and butt out of Brookes?"

Her eyes widen is shock and she stares at him. "Well look who grew a pair? You really gonna step up to _me _of all people Luke?" She shakes her head and clicks her tongue. "You jumped too far ahead honey, try someone smaller and less likely to be ten times out of your league."

"How about you get out of my face and I won't tell Brooke that _you _are the reason this all happened to begin with." He hisses back in her face. "You knew we were drunk and you left us together so you and Owen could hook up. Pretty slutty move, huh Rachel?"

Silence.

It's complete silence between them because Rachel is two seconds away from letting loose. She wants to fire at him as if she were standing at a shooting range and he was the target. Her right palm tingles because she wants to slap that smug look off his face. But then he blinks at her and frowns, pulls away and sighs.

"I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry," he says and _now _she slaps him.

"Be a man, Lucas. Stick to your guns. You don't insult someone and then say you're _sorry,_" she scoffs. "You are so lucky she loves you," she mutters with angry flushed cheeks, "because if she didn't you wouldn't be here right now. You'd be dead." Her eyes flash with a fire so intense Lucas takes a step back. "Please remember, I'm not the only one pissed at you."

His brow wrinkles as he mulls over her words and then the penny seems to drop because he swallows loudly.

_Owen_.

She smirks. _That's right you little wimp. Owen would love to get his hands on you!_

"Rachel," Nathan's deep baritone breaks her staring match with Lucas. "Let it go," he instructs her and is bold enough to push between her and Lucas. "You'll only piss Brooke off," he warns her.

She glances at the dark haired Scott before returning to stare at Lucas. She wants to ask Nathan if he cares about Brooke at all–if he did he should want to drive his fist into Lucas' face just as badly as she does,–but she doesn't. Not in front of Lucas.

Instead, Rachel clenches her eyes shut and takes a deep breath to calm herself. She is always in control, she has to be. She cannot allow this asshole—Lucas—to unravel her now.

"It's not your fault," Nathan whispers in her ear. Her eyes flick up to meet his and he seems to want to say; _It's mine_. Her lashes flutter open in shock to see him shake his head. "Go home and be with Brooke, I got this."

A new staring match begins – this time between her and Nathan. And this time she forfeits.

"I have one more stop," she mutters.

She's sure that he knows what she's taking about and he nods. "Do whatever you have to do. Just don't fuck with Lucas or she'll never forgive you."

Rachel slowly takes two steps back and pauses to send a final glare towards Lucas. "Like I said, you are so damn lucky she loves you."

She storms off and the remaining two Scott boys watch her go. A thick cloud of tension hangs over their heads and Lucas braces himself when Nathan turns to face him. He's not quite sure what part Nathan has in any of this. He hardly has ever even seen Brooke talk to his half-brother since he's known her and yet Nathan is looking at him now as if he's just broken his sisters heart.

But Lucas obviously mistakes his affection for something that it's not. Nathan has never seen Brooke as a sister, more like another part of himself that he'd yet to decipher as a lover. At first it evens confuses Nathan and he still has no clue why he cares so much how Brooke feels. All he knows is that it's the only thing keeping him from shoving a fist in the boys face.

"You're not even worth it," he shakes his head and leaves Lucas standing in the hall like the clueless fool that he is.

---x---

Her next stop is anticipated and Peyton waits for her in the parking lot by her car. The blonde had been scarce all damn day but she can't hide forever.

And Peyton knows that there's no use avoiding this because she started it the moment she pressed her lips to Luke's. It'd been her plan from the start to take down Tree Hill's golden couple. Jealousy is one of the most powerful emotions a human being can posses and Peyton has always been unable to handle her emotions.

"Looking for me?" she teases Rachel as she leans against her car and crosses her arms.

Rachel scowls and narrows her eyes, "How do you sleep at night?"

"I sleep just fine, thank you." She lies through her teeth. Truthfully she hasn't slept much at all lately and it's starting to take its toll on her sanity.

"So I guess this is all my fault for leaving him drunk and unattended that night, huh?" Rachel scoffs. "I thought you were her best friend, Peyton. What definition of that do you live by? How do you even look at yourself in the mirror?"

"I love that she sends you to do her dirty work for her." Peyton says with a superior air about her. "Tell me, how does it feel to be the guard dog, Rachel?"

"How does it feel to be the backstabbing _bitch_, Peyton?" she counter asks spitefully.

The way that Peyton rolls her eyes drives Rachel crazy and when the blonde chuckles, "What do you plan to do to me Rachel?" then Rachel can think of a million tortuous punishments.

But Peyton continuous, "You and I both know I don't give a shit about anything. Kick me off the squad, blacklist me from all future Raven parties or take away my popularity," she grunts. "I could really give two flying fucks," her hands tuck into the pockets of her leather jacket as she shrugs.

"How about I kick your ass?" Rachel gives the challenge.

"You can try," Peyton mutters bored and completely unmoved by Rachel's threatening step towards her.

"You're pathetic," Rachel scowls.

"That's what they tell me," Peyton chuckles.

"What was the point of this anyways? You don't even like Lucas," Rachel's high voice grows even more shrill as she grows more and more upset. "What the hell is your problem with Brooke? She's done nothing to you."

"Maybe I just don't like the bitch?" Peyton lifts a shoulder from under her black cowhide jacket, although the voice isn't as cocky as before. Her eyes flicks to the side and for the first time Rachel sees the hint of a bad conscience. But just as with Lucas, it does nothing to placate her.

"Wrong answer," she hisses and drops her duffel bag down at her side. "Wanna run that one by me again?"

"You don't wanna do this with me Rach," Peyton grunts and pushes off her car.

"Oh, really? I don't, huh? Because you are just the all knowing Peyton Sawyer, so emo and bitchy yet too chicken shit to just do what everyone else is waiting for." Rachel presses forward until their nose to nose. "Why the long sleeves today Peyt? Are your track marks showing?"

"Fuck you." Peyton whispers.

"What was that honey? I didn't quite get that last bit, all I heard were whiney little squeaks." She smirks. "Poor, poor little Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer. Her mommy's dead and her daddy doesn't care about her. Oh what to do? Oh whoa was me!" Rachel clutches at her chest. "My life is just so horrible that I must poison everyone else around me in order to busy myself from ending it all!" She throws her arms out at her sides.

Peyton stands speechless but her heart pounds in her chest all the same.

"How did I do?" Rachel bites the tip of her tongue and fights back a grin. "I think I did a damn near perfect impression of you." Her hands move to her hips and she waits for the curly blonde to respond to her taunting words. "Oh come on P. Sawyer, where is your smug smile now?" She asks innocently and bats her lashes.

Trembling lips and welling eyes are all that is left of Peyton as she and Rachel engage themselves in an passionate staring contest. Rachel grows tired and moves in for the kill.

"Let's get one thing straight here bitch," she bites like a snap dragon, "whatever it is that you're going through? Please believe me when I say that no one gives a shit. You've abused every last right you had with everyone around you. Nathan can't stand you, I sure as hell can't stand you, _Lucas _can't even utter your name without wanting to vomit and Brooke?" She scoffs. "You're screwed sweet cheeks. You have no one in your corner, consider this your resignation. You're done."

"You think I care?" Peyton scowls.

"No," Rachel shakes her head, "because as long as Brooke still has a beating heart you will forever remain intact. Just like I won't touch Lucas, I won't physically touch you."

"I feel so damn, fucking honored," Goldilocks spits out.

"You should, because she's the only reason I don't go to town on your ass," Rachel sneers.

"Why don't we skip the bullshit, huh? Why don't you and I settle this right here and now?" Peyton shrugs out of her jacket and tosses it into the back of her car.

Rachel licks her lips happily, "I was hoping you'd say that."

---x---

A freezing pain shoots its way from her cheekbone to her head and then it works its way down to her gut. Brooke continues to hold the green bag to the side of her face and refuses to back away even though Rachel is hissing and snapping like a temperamental wild cat.

"Hold still!" Brooke scolds the redhead.

"Fuck _you_, hold still! How about I slap a pack of frozen peas on _your _face!" Rachel growls out.

Brooke giggles and lets go so that Rachel can hold it herself. The sound is strange coming out from her lips and the laughter stops. For the last thirty something hours she mostly cried and her lips are not used to twitching upwards.

"I can't believe you guys were fighting," She snickers and against her will, a smile tries to make it through again. "If Whitey hadn't walked into the parking lot in time who do you think would have won?"

"Honestly? I have no idea," Rachel laughs softly and winces from the pain that shoots through her brain.

"Wow, who knew P. Sawyer could throw a punch?" Brooke wonders out loud and traces her fingertip gently along Rachel's bruised cheek. "This must hurt like fuck."

"You think?" Rachel growls and rubs the spot on her head where Peyton had practically ripped hair from her skull. "Who knew the bitch fought dirty?"

"Bevin says that Peyton's going to have one hell of a shiner come tomorrow morning." Brooke bites her bottom lip to keep from laughing because this isn't funny. She will not encourage behavior like this…

She actually starts to giggle now because she sounds like her mother.

"I'm happy to amuse you," Rachel deadpans and gets up from her place in front of her vanity mirror.

Brooke stands up and starts to clean away the things that she's been using to patch Rachel up and Rachel glances at her in silence, thinking that truthfully, it doesn't matter that her left cheekbone is going to bruise and be hideous in the upcoming week. She doesn't _care_ that the right lower side of her scalp will be swollen and tender for days until the roots of her hair begin to repair. Nor does she care that come Monday morning she's going to have to defend herself against the gossip mill.

Because contrary to how she looks or feels, Peyton still has a busted lip and swollen eye. And yet none of that matters really. Not in the least.

The reason? Well, she's standing two feet away, wearing the first hint of a smile in over 24 hours.

It's not wide, and there aren't any dimples accompanying it, but it's at least better than all night when she listened to Brooke's crying and had no clue at all how to make the girl feel better.

It's small, but it's still a smile.

That's all Rachel cares about.

---x---

_**March 11**__**th**_

It's after dinnertime but not late enough for it to be impolite to knock on the front door of Rachel's big house. He makes sure because he doesn't want to make her parents upset by ringing the doorbell too late. Not on top of everything else.

He's been by Brooke's mansion already but no one answered the door there and it had seemed dark and empty. So even though Brooke's redheaded friend scares the crap out of him at the moment, he's taking his chances because he needs to talk to Brooke.

He's waited, because he figured that she needed time to calm down, but he can't wait any longer. It's been three full days. She wasn't in school yesterday or today and he needs to see her so he can at least try to say he's sorry.

The metallic 'ding dong' of the doorbell sounds from within the house and he shifts his weight on his feet. He doesn't have the slightest clue what to say if Brooke is here, it's just that with all the chaos he's created – Rachel and Peyton had even had a _fist fight_ in the school parking lot – and he has to at least say sorry.

He can hear someone coming down the stairs and then the front door opens. He prepares for another scolding from Rachel but instead he has to tilt his head upwards to meet the eyes of Rachel's 6'5 tall boyfriend.

_Crap._

"What do you want?" Owen scowls and Lucas can practically feel himself shrinking.

"Is Brooke here?"

He hates that his voice sounds so thin but not only is he nervous, Owen is also both older and stronger and the guy _had_ warned him about hurting Brooke.

"Is Brooke here?" Owen repeats incredulously. "What's it to you? It's not like I'm gonna let you talk to her."

Owens sounds calm but his eyes are cold. From inside Lucas can hear the sound of the TV and he tries to peek around the taller guy to see if he can spot Brooke but Owen steps out on the porch and closes the door behind him.

"Listen," the big guy mutters, "I told you. I laid down the rules and you didn't follow 'em so you lost your right to see her, kay?"

"But I just –" he clears his throat and starts over. "I messed up… I need to just tell her that I'm–"

"Sorry?" Owen chuckles dryly, "Believe me; she _knows_ what a sorry ass you are." The college quarterback waves him off with a flick of his wrist and grabs the door handle. "You can go now, Lucas. You're not seeing Brooke tonight."

Lucas hangs his head but then he scrapes up the last shreds of pride and raises his chin. "You can't keep her from talking to me. I'll see her in school on Monday either way."

Owen turns around to face him again and his face is covered by a frown.

"Why would you want to hurt her more than you already did, huh?" the older guy asks, and it actually sounds like it's meant as a question. "Once wasn't enough for you?"

Lucas hangs his head for the second time and Owen lets out a grunt that clearly says 'I thought so'. "Let her decide when she wants to talk to you," Owen continuous, "and let it be known that the only reason you're still in one piece right now is because of her. But please believe that I won't leave your face alone a second time if I hear that you've cornered her in school."

Then Rachel's big boyfriend goes back inside, efficiently slamming the door in his face.

---x---

Usually he doesn't call her.

Usually he texts her and propositions her in some lame way, making her call him back. Or maybe he should use past tense here. He _used to _text her before she went and got official with Lucas.

Now, two full days after Lucas managed to fuck up that relationship royally and Brooke showed up at his door, Nathan has no idea how to act. He's texted Brooke twice to apologize but she doesn't answer and he wants to check up on her somehow.

The break-up between Brooke and Lucas was what he'd been aiming for but the victory tastes slightly sour after seeing Brooke cry the way she had. And for once he's not calling for a booty call. He's not sure why he's calling her really, yet he dials her cell phone number for the third time and waits.

Just like the earlier two calls, the signals sound in his ear, but this time – instead of going through to Brooke's voice mail – Rachel's annoyed voice greets him.

"What the fuck do you want, Nate?"

"Uhm… hi to you too, Raye. Is Brooke around?"

"She's in the shower."

Trying to figure out what his next move should be, he plays with the zipper on his windbreaker. Should he ask Rachel to have Brooke call him back?

"I'm guessing she doesn't want to talk to you," the redhead mutters, "since she didn't pick up the last two times you called. I'd be pissed at you too if I was her. You know what you did was fucked up. Deliberately shoving Lucas and Peyton in her face like that? Jesus, Nate what were you thinking?"

"Yeah but… I wasn't. I just—but she–"

He's just about to say that Brooke's probably over that since she let him have sex with her after but Rachel interrupts him.

"Don't take it too hard Scott. She's hardly talking to me either. I'm gonna try and get her to leave the house tonight because its driving me nuts to watch her be this crushed. Maybe she'll call you tomorrow when she has some perspective?"

The totally uncharacteristic way in which Rachel is actually reassuring him tells him that she doesn't know what he and Brooke did on the night that Brooke found out about Lucas' little sidestep. If she did, she would probably accuse him of taking advantage of Brooke. If she knew, then Rachel wouldn't admit that Brooke is sad.

"Where are you going?" he asks instead, "Up to Duke?" It is the safe bet because Rachel wouldn't submit Brooke to a party where Luke or Peyton might turn up.

"Nah, I was but there's this cheerleader DVD night at Bevin's house or some shit. I'm gonna see if I can get Brooke to go…" she pauses and it sounds like she's closing a door, "don't come over though, okay? Brooke needs some breathing room from everything 'Scott' for a while. If you want I can have Owen swing by and pick you up if you want to head up to Duke with him."

He ponders the request and then he nods into the phone. It confuses him that Brooke hasn't told Raye about their little rendez-vous. Maybe she regretted it?

"Just –" he's a breath away from saying 'take care of her' but the phrase would only piss Rachel off, so he bites his tongue. "Tell Owen to call when he's on his way," he mutters instead and hangs up.

"Who was that?" Brooke's raspy voice startles Rachel who whirls around and plays it ultra cool.

"No one," she says. "Feeling better?"

Brooke pulls the towel tighter around herself and shrugs, "Define… _better_."

Rachel heaves a sigh and hesitates to reach out and touch her heartbroken friend. She still cannot believe Lucas did what he did. It was so out of character of him, he was supposed to be the _good Scott_.

"Can I have my phone back?" Brooke asks silently and holds a hand out.

Rachel purses her lips as if to contemplate her decision then hands it over, "Any particular reason Nathan is calling you five times a day?" the redhead asks.

The two girls engage in a staring contest, each unwilling to look away. Rachel is trying to read Brooke's mood while she's just trying to keep a blank face. What was the use talking about something she wants to forget? Running to Nathan was stupid, which she's sure that Rachel would be the first to tell her, and she sure as hell doesn't want to talk about what Lucas and Peyton did. It'll only make it hurt more.

"You're going to have to talk about it sometime, you know," Rachel mutters.

She hates when the redhead reads her mind like that. A shiver runs down her spine from the cold of an open door and Brooke's eyes dart to the stairs. The front door downstairs slams closed and suspicion seeps in.

"Someone here?" she asks.

Rachel shrugs careless, "Would you come downstairs if there was?"

"No," comes Brooke's immediate answer.

"Then what the hell do you care?" Rachel snaps.

"Watch it," Brooke growls and turns to the closet to grab clothes. She knows that Rachel hates it when she's closed up like this but being a bitch about it is not helping.

"You coming with me to Bevin's tonight?" Rachel asks in a slightly less sharp voice.

"No," Brooke mumbles and tries to sneak past Rachel to the closet.

"You've been a zombie for days, Brooke. I'm getting sick of it."

"Then maybe I'll just go home," Brooke yanks a shirt off the rack and a pair of jeans. She can't handle fighting with Rachel, not now. And even though she's not even looking at the redhead, her tired posture must be enough because her friend sighs.

"You know that's not what I mean, B"

"Then what, Rachel?" she snaps angrily, "You have no idea how I feel right now and I'm sorry I can't just jump right back in the party circuit and act like nothing happened. Maybe _you_ could, but _I _can't."

"What the hell does that mean?" Rachel steps in closer, "You know what, Brooke? I am trying so fucking hard to be cool and understanding and all that shit but that's not me. And you know what else? This emo-version of you? It's not you, Brooke. You're so much better than…" Rachel hesitates and waves a hand out towards her, "whatever _this _is."

Owens footsteps are heard coming up the stairs and Brooke bites back a nasty retort.

"What's going on up here?" he asks and looks between the two girls standing in Brooke's room.

"Who was here?" Brooke asks and Rachel rolls her eyes.

"Why?" Owen wonders aloud.

"Was it Nathan?" she snaps.

"No," Owen frowns, "why? You two back on?"

"No," she shakes her head, "definitely not."

Rachel eyes her seemingly unconvinced.

"Then who—" the redhead starts but is cut off by her phone's shrill ring.

"Don't answer that," Owen shakes his head.

"What?" Brooke grimaces.

"It's gonna be Lucas," he tells her. "He was just here trying to talk to you."

"Great," Rachel scoffs. "The guy just can't take a hint, can he? I mean, he's been begging me for two days to get you to talk to him. I tell him to fuck off and what does he do? He shows up at our _house?_ Just how dumb—"

"Rachel, please shut up," Brooke groans into her hands just as her phone starts up again.

"Handle it, Brooke," Rachel points down at the phone. "Or I will," she mutters and pushes Owen out of the room. "Let's go, we're going out to eat before Owen heads back to Duke. If you're not coming out with me then I'm not going to that stupid movie night. But Brooke?" she eyes her carefully, "When I come back I expect this to be taken care of," she points at her phone then walks out of the room.

Owen shoots Brooke a look that lets her know that he'll handle Lucas for her if she wants. She shakes her head and sighs down at her phone. Rachel's right, she's better than staying home and hiding. She's better than this cowardly version of herself.

Snatching up the phone she yanks it open and barks, "_What do you want?_" into the receiver. Offense is the best defense, right?

"B-Brooke?" Lucas stutters as if he can't fathom why anyone would want to yell at him.

"Yes," she answers full of sarcasm, doing her best to cover the tremble in her tone that comes from just hearing the blonde boy's voice. "This _is _the number you dialed after all," she continuous, "Unless you were trying to contact Peyton. In which case you may want to try again with a triple six area code. I know it's considered a long distance call—but then again, since you two can go to hell? I'm going to assume you're both on the same calling plan."

"Brooke, please," Lucas begs, "I'm sor—"

"Let me make something very clear to you, Lucas," she snaps and she clenches the cell phone so hard that it's a wonder it isn't breaking, "I don't care how sorry you are. In fact, I don't even care enough to continue this conversation."

"Brooke, just allow me to explain," he pleads with her.

"Fuck you, Lucas!" she shouts into the phone, "Fuck you and your lame excuses and everything about you. Just leave me alone and stay the hell away from me!"

The tears spill over and she knows that she has to end the call now, before he says anything that might make her crumble.

"But if you'd just lis—"

_Click_.

---x---

Almost an hour later, Brooke is laying in bed staring at the ceiling and trying to convince herself that she's not pathetic.

She should be on her way to Bevin's to join the rest of the squad for their monthly DVD night, but she just can't. Even if she went with Rachel she'd still feel like shit and ruin the entire atmosphere of the movie night. Brooke knows that as captain she should be there. But damn it, she doesn't want to go—and not because she's too depressed, she tries to convince herself.

She just doesn't feel like it, _right_?

She should be passed being depressed, she thinks. At the moment all Brooke should be feel is annoyance and anger. And she's angry, alright. Angry at herself for letting her guard down and annoyed at the world for continuing to turn while she's left behind sweeping up pieces of her heart. So excuse her for not wanting to spend her night surrounded by a bunch of overzealous teenage dimwits.

Her phone beeps with a text message from Bevin asking where she's at. She doesn't bother with a response. It beeps again, this time from Ashley and again she ignores it. Then it beeps a third… fourth… fifth time and she looks down to see a text from almost every Raven cheerleader.

_He's not worth it, B. Come over!_

_Peyton's a bitch and Lucas is a scumbag. You need to be with your friends!_

_Screw Lucas, he's a loser! We miss you!_

_Peyton's not here, please come!_

_Do you still have my Mean Girls DVD?_

The last is from Bevin and Brooke can't help but snort out a small laugh. She dries some stray tears off of her face with the sleeve of her sweater and she's in the middle of a reply when a knock at the door causes her to jump and drop her phone down to the floor. Who the hell is that?

Scooping her phone off the floor, she pulls her shorts out of her ass and grimaces as she walks over to the door and peeks through the peep hole.

"You have got to be kidding me," Brooke grumbles before yanking the door open. "What part of stay away from me, do you not understand?"

"Brooke, please," he holds a hand up, "I know you don't have any reason to listen to me…"

"You're right, I don't," she grabs the door to slam it in his face but his hand darts out to stop it.

"Just give me 60 seconds, okay?" his sad blue eyes beg her.

"And why should I?" she scoffs. "I'm sorry but _lying-cheating-asshole_ cutoff was 9 o'clock," her hand goes for the door again and is stopped once again.

"Well, I don't want to argue," he quickly intercepts. "You don't even have to say anything. Just listen. Please, Brooke. I'm not asking for forgiveness. I just want you to know how sorry I am for what I did."

She huffs back at him in disbelief.

"How sorry you are?" she rolls her eyes, "Do you know that the entire time that we were dating I actually felt inferior to you? What a joke. You are just like every other guy on the planet. You're a liar and a cheater."

"You're right," he quickly agrees, "I lied to you. And there's no excuse for that—"

"No, there's not," she grimaces at her own hypocrisy and new tears burn in her throat. "Peyton, I can expect this from," she laughs bitterly at the fact, "but you?"

"What kind of friendship do you two have?" he balks flabbergasted. "I have never in my life seen two people who obviously hate each other claim to be best friends."

"Whatever, times up," she grabs the door for a third time and manages to get it half way closed before Lucas sticks his foot in between. "Lucas, I don't want to hear it!"

"But you have to know that it was a mistake," he yells out to her. "I made a huge mistake and for that I am so, so sorry, Brooke. I love you, I do. I was just confused and I—"

"Shut up!" she grabs onto the doorway to steady herself as her entire body shivers with rage. "I have been trying so hard to be the bigger person about this. But you know what? That's not who I am. _I _am not who you made me out to be and I am sick and tired of pretending that I ever was."

Lucas blinks down at her confused.

"You made a _fool_ out of me, Lucas. I opened myself up to you and what did it get me? Nothing. You are a Scott through and through. Your father would be _so _proud."

He looks horrified at that and it feels like the tiniest victory. The way she's been hurting for the last couple of days makes her want to hurt him back.

"You walk around as if you are so much more superior than everyone else when the reality of it all is that you are worse…" she continuous, "And as for excuses?" she then shrugs, "You don't owe me any. We're not together anymore, so now I don't have to pretend like I actually care what you have to say. I don't _have_ to do anything for you."

His eyes narrow as the words start to take their toll.

"You never opened yourself up to me," he mutters a little defensively, "I tried making you talk to me and you –"

"Don't," she stops him. "Don't even go there."

Sure, there were sides of her that she never showed him, just like she said herself a minute ago. But in a bigger sense, there had never been a boy that she had tried so hard to let in. She had allowed herself to fall for him. To _love_ him and to even say it to him out loud.

She had _really_ tried.

What hurts the most is how painfully clear it is now that none of her efforts were enough for him.

"I made a mistake, Brooke," Lucas says again with a sad expression, "but I've never been in a relationship before. You've been with six guys before me and –"

_Of course_. Out of all the things she did tell him, he chose to remember that exact piece of information.

"Screw you, Lucas," she hisses, hurt. "This has nothing to do with how many guys I've slept with. You cheated on me with my childhood friend. I even asked you if you still loved me, after you had already been with her! And you lied!"

Lucas hangs his head.

"I didn't lie," he mumbles, "I was just confused… I _do_ love you."

"And what about Peyton?" she asks, trying her very hardest to keep her voice cold and her lip from trembling. "You love her too?"

He starts to talk but she holds her hand up to stop him.

"Never mind," she shakes her head, "I don't want to hear it. I'm not your girlfriend anymore. In fact? I'm not anything to you anymore. When we're in class, you keep your gaze forward. If you see me in the hall, you turn and you walk in the opposite direction. At practice and at games you keep your focus on the ball and nowhere near me or my squad."

"Brooke," he starts.

"From this point on? You're invisible," her eyes darken as she pries his fingers from the door. "Just like you were before."

She sneers and this time when she slams the door closed in his face, he does nothing to stop her.

How can you if you're invisible?

---x---

He gets home late that night. Too miserable to face his mother after everything he's done and hoping she'd be asleep by the time he walked through the door. But despite everything, he's still a good boy in most ways. And he makes curfew just a few minutes shy of ten.

"Luke?"

His mother's low tone makes him stop in the middle of the kitchen with held breath.

"Yeah?" he calls out and wipes a hand over his tired face.

Her footsteps are light but the sliding of her slippers against the hardwood floors make him cringe. He can feel his palms start to sweat just as she flicks on the kitchen light and squints up at him with a look of concern on her face. He's so ashamed of himself that he almost asks her to turn the lights out.

"You were out late," she stops in front of him and wipes a soft hand down the side of his face, "you look exhausted. You and Brooke need to start calling it a night earlier."

"That won't be a problem anymore," he mumbles and tries to sidestep her.

"Whoa, whoa," she stops him with a firm hand at his elbow, "since when do you mumble under your breath at me and walk away?" she scolds him in disbelief.

His eyes close as he inhales a deep breath through his nose, "Mom, not now." He exhales loudly and tries to pull his arm away.

"What happened? You and Brooke have a fight?" she asks.

He shakes his head and looks down at the floor, a hand rising to rub the back of his neck.

"Talk to me honey. You know you can tell me anything," she reaches out for him again and motions to the kitchen table. "Sit down with me for a little bit."

"Ma," he groans.

"Sit," she commands him.

"I really don't want to talk about it," he replies with eyes trained to the table between them.

"Did you break up?"

He nods in response but fails to look up into her face. He's terrified she'll see right through him the moment he does. She's his mom, it's what moms do. They see the truth and filter out the lies.

She gets up from the table and starts towards the cupboards, grabbing to mugs and two packets of hot chocolate. _Great_, he thinks to himself. She's going to bribe him with warm cups of liquid comfort and then she's going to get him to confess. She is the ultimate closer of all cases that involve hidden secrets being held from her.

He decides then to jump the gun and get to the inevitable.

"I cheated on her with Peyton," he confesses.

Karen drops the ceramic coffee cup and cringes when it crashes into the sink and breaks into three pieces. Her shoulders are tense as she sets her hands onto the counter and takes a few seconds to comprehend what her son has just told her.

"It was a mistake," he quickly adds, "I was confused and trying to figure something out that I should have known from the start."

Slowly, his mother turns around to face him. The disappointment in her eyes makes him cower into his chair and look back down at the table.

"It's all my fault and I can't take it back," he whispers. "I lost an amazing girl because I second guessed myself."

When his mother doesn't respond he continues as if to explain himself because if she doesn't listen, he feels like no one ever will. He needs her to see his truth, and he hopes she will filter out the lies just like she always has.

"I got drunk at a party," he cringes and gulps because he knows what his moms face will look like if he looks up. "And," he licks his dry lips, "and I was mad at Brooke. She keeps things from me, you know?" he glances up but darts his gaze back down when the scowl on Karen's face makes his blood run cold.

"But that's not why I did it," he sighs, "she's very private when it comes to her family. I can't force that stuff out of her. But I'd like to think that if something was wrong she'd tell me?" he shakes his head. "I've been hanging out with Peyton a lot lately, as I'm sure you've noticed."

She nods.

"Well, we've been talking. And at first it was about Brooke." He sighs and clenches his fists under the table. "Peyton let me in on why Brooke is so closed off and told me to wait it out. So I did, and while I was doing that I started to grow closer to Peyton. Who let me in, all the way." He laughs as he starts to remember their time spent together. "She told me about how much she missed her mom, and how she felt as if her dad stayed away because she reminded him of her."

He shrugs and covers his face with his hands.

"I'm so stupid," he laughs at himself. "You know I kinda knew from the beginning that she was setting me up?" he admits to his mother who watches him without saying a word. "She was always staring at me funny. Like she was trying to figure out the right thing to do or say next. She'd tell me something about her and then she'd just… _watch me_. At first I thought it was because she was embarrassed or because she felt vulnerable. But now," he scoffs, "I can see that she was calculating…"

Karen's mouth sets tight as she listens to her son speak.

"After Cotillion, everything changed. _Brooke_ changed. I could see she was trying so I decided to pull away from my friendship with Peyton. I knew it bothered Brooke how close we'd gotten, and at that point I didn't want to complicate our relationship any further. She was trying so I had to try too, right?" he looks at his mom who nods slightly.

"Then one night I went to see Brooke and she was leaving Rachel's house with some people from Duke," he grimaces at the memory of Brooke drunkenly giggling, riding piggyback of Tyler Gage. "I tried to call her, I was furious that she'd lied to me. She told me she was going to stay home and study and then I see her leaving to go party. She knows how much I hate when she goes to Durham because…" he stops.

"Did you not trust her to go up there without you?" Karen speaks for the first time in a long while.

Lucas shakes his head, "No, I trusted her. I was just upset that she didn't trust _me_ enough to tell me the _truth_. It was as if she was embarrassed to admit to the things that made us different. But I love her for all those things," he shakes his head.

He never once actually gave life to thought of Brooke cheating, despite the little voices of doubt that wondered what she did in Durham.

"There was this party a few weeks ago after one of the games," he starts up again. "I was still a little mad at Brooke for lying but I was more mad at myself. There's obviously a reason she kept those things from me. And I'll be the first to admit that I openly expressed to my disliking of her hanging out with those college guys. But a part of me was jealous that I couldn't be them. I don't like to party and get drunk, ma," he locks eyes with his mom, "I like to stay home and read, or hang out with a small group of friends."

"Did she ever make you feel ashamed of that?"

"No, never," he tells her, "that's just it. She accepted me for me and I was so sure she knew I felt the same way for her."

"But you just said you told her how much you didn't like her going to Durham," Karen reminds him. "That doesn't sound like full acceptance to me, Lucas."

"Yeah, I know," he looks down.

"You can't force yourself to be someone you're not," she replies in a soft tone. "And you should never have to."

His guilt consumes him then. Had he made Brooke feel as if she couldn't be herself around him? A sick feeling in his stomach tells him that he did.

"I'd like to go to bed now, mom," he whispers.

"We'll talk later," she says and stands up to leave.

He nods and remains seated at the table even after she's gone. That party had marked the beginning of the end. He'd been drunk and not himself that night. Peyton had been there, porcelain skin and golden curls. Big blue eyes, trembling lower lip…

_Kiss me, Lucas_.

He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and shivers. It'd been a mistake, but everyone knew that the truth came out when alcohol was involved. At least, that's what he's heard. Small nagging voices surfaced from deep within the confines of the subconscious mind.

He'd had a crush on Peyton Sawyer since he could remember. How could he deny a feeling that'd been there practically forever? That night, drunk and stumbling for the bathroom to splash cold water onto his face led to those pleading blue eyes and trembling lips…

_Kiss me, Lucas_.

Shaky hands run through his hair as he rehashes the nightmare that was his own willful actions. The first time was a mistake that opened Pandora's box. It gave way to a multitude of questions and doubt. He'd always wondered what it'd be like to actually _be _with Peyton. His imagination could only get him so far and when he'd gotten with Brooke he'd thought those feelings were buried.

Until that night. Afterwards he'd felt sick and shameful, especially when he'd seen Brooke smile up at him and tell him she trusted him. The very words he'd wanted to hear all along and it was too late.

The second time '_it_' happened he'd gone to tell Peyton they were a mistake and that it would never happen again. He was with Brooke and he loved her. But then he'd gone into Peyton's house and found her crying on her bedroom floor over an old family photo album. She told him how much she missed her mom and how she hated her dad for staying away for so long.

There is just something about a crying female that shuts Lucas down and the need to comfort said emotional mess becomes irrefutable. Instantly he'd had her in his arms and with a soothing hand rubbing up and down her back he'd whispered that everything would be okay.

_Kiss me, Lucas_. _Make everything better. _

Days later he was wiping down the counters in his mothers café and contemplating theoretical suicide. He could no longer say it was a mistake because the second time he'd _wanted_ to do it. He'd _wanted _to make everything okay. He'd _wanted_ her to stop being so sad and depressed. What was so wrong about wanting someone to need him like that?

By then he'd equally cared for both girls. He loved Brooke, and yet he'd think of Peyton's broken mess and want to fix it. He planned to tell Brooke, because keeping secrets from her was the very thing he hated that she kept from him. He just didn't know how to tell her without losing her completely. Especially since he wasn't sure who he was meant to be with.

With Lucas, everything was about fate. Everything happened for a reason. It had to, or else nothing in life made sense. He was _meant _to fall in love with Brooke, he was _meant _to sleep with Peyton and he was _meant _to make a decision between the two of them.

Even it damn near destroyed him.

Peyton had promised to keep quiet and not say a word until Lucas made up his mind. She'd been so tremendously understanding. It'd made his heart ache for her because what girl was willing to stand back and allow a guy to choose between her and her friend? The very thought made him feel disgusting. The fact that he was torn between two best friends was both novel worthy and morally repugnant.

The third time they'd been in the library discussing Brooke. His guilt was consuming him and he'd still been unable to choose who he was meant to be with. It wasn't about who he wanted to be with anymore, it was about _fate_. Why would fate bring Peyton back into his life if it wasn't meant to be? Was it a test for his and Brooke's relationship? Had he failed?

"_I know you're confused,_" she'd said that day, _"and I'm not trying to push you, but…" _she'd nervously pushed a stray curl behind her ear, _"can you just tell me something?"_

He'd nodded and she'd taken a breath, stepped in closer and absently trailed a finger across his chest. Her brow was creased in deep thought and he'd thought then that he'd given anything to get inside her head. To know the real Peyton Sawyer.

"_What's so special about Brooke?" _she's asked. _"Because for the life of me, I can't figure it out. I mean, everyone chooses her over me. But why? I just need to know, okay? _Why_, Lucas? Why her?" _

She'd looked so sad in that moment with the soft light from outside making her tearful eyes stand out. So beautifully sad and the most vulnerable he'd ever seen her. He reached up to wipe away a tear that had started to slide down her cheek.

"_I'm sorry you feel this way, Peyton," _he'd told her.

Then she'd looked up at him, those tearful big blue eyes, those two trembling lips and said it again, _"Kiss me, Lucas._"

"God!" Lucas groans out into the kitchen, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushes it backwards. He grabs his head in his hands and pulls at his hair as he backs out of the kitchen towards his room.

Just how _stupid_ and naïve can one person get? He'd been warned—over and _over _had he been warned. If he's learned anything from this experience it's to listen and observe rather than try to figure things out himself. Because he now knows just how inexperienced he is when it comes to all these… _games_.

Now he realizes that he had come running like a freaking lapdog every time Peyton beckoned. As if he had no will of his own.

His hand shoves open his door as he enters his room and looks around in search of something to distract him from his thoughts. Maybe he should shower, clean off the day. He likes that idea and pulls off his jacket and kicks off his shoes.

_The prettier they are? The more trouble they come with._

He grimaces at the thought of Jake's warning. Pushing it into the back of his head he pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the floor. He's not sure he can bear to look at himself in the mirror when he enters the bathroom. He unbuckles his belt next, slides it out from the belt loops and hangs it over the back of his computer chair.

His fingers unfasten his jeans and pushes them down his legs. He lets them pool at his feet then kicks them away where his shoes lay abandoned. Rubbing hands over tired eyes he groans and walks into the hall to grab a towel on his way to the bathroom.

_If you're confused, that's a good thing. Because the second this shit starts to make sense? That's when you know you're in too deep, Luke._

The water runs cold at first touch but soon starts to warm as he twists the center handle to the far left. He wants the water so hot that it scalds his skin and leaves him with tender pink flesh. He still cannot believe what he's done, even after reality's setting in, he still is unable to comprehend how utterly stupid he'd been.

_From this point on? You're invisible._

His thumbs slide into the sides of his boxers, grabbing the elastic in a tight grip and pulling them down. Those words uttered from between Brooke's lips had hurt so much more than if she'd screamed that she hated him. The steam from the shower fogs up the mirror in front of him and he hesitates to wipe a hand across its surface. Why would he want to look at the face of a loser?

_Just like you were before. _

He shivers as he imagines the way her eyes had clouded over with unleashed rage. But as soon as they filled, they drained. He'd seen the look of defeat in her eyes and he knew then as he does now that he had royally screwed up.

He bets that if Peyton has been there she'd have laughed behind a hand. He could imagine her now with a slight smirk on her lips. Yes, she'd definitely take pleasure in the aftermath of their sinful deeds. In fact, he's _sure_ of it. Why? Because she'd smirked that day in the empty classroom after Brooke had left.

_Kiss me, Lucas._

His stomach lurches and he almost slips in the shower, scalding water slapping against his naked back and sliding down his spine. He shivers even in the heat, he can imagine two small hands gliding down his back, pulling him close.

Why had he let her drag him into that classroom? The first time had been a mistake, the second and third an act of sheer stupidity. But that last time? That time in the classroom where things could have escalated beyond kissing as they usually did with her…

He'd told her to stop. For once, he'd been able to say _no_—but it'd been too late. Tearful eyes, trembling lips, hot breath against his mouth. She'd _begged _him to kiss her.

_Choose _me_, Lucas. Love _me, _Lucas._

His body leans to the right so that his head can rest against the white tile wall. The steam feels suffocating but it's a feeling he's been unable to escape since that party with Peyton. Suffocation and anxiety on top of shame and guilt. He gasps for air and claws for the small window above the soap dish.

A freezing blast of ice cold air hits him like a bucket of cold water. Again he shivers then he covers his face with his hands and takes deep breathes.

A memory of that day floods back into his mind suddenly and Lucas clenches his eyes shut tight. But it doesn't matter how hard he tries, he'll always see the look of betrayal in Brooke's eyes. Feel the slight shake of Peyton's shoulders as she held back a laugh.

Then Brooke's eyes had teared up, her lips pressing together in order to hide the tremble in them. He'd wanted to run after her, but he'd been stopped.

"… _your job here is done." _

_He had flinched back a step and Peyton had rolled her eyes as just before she'd shoved him out of her way towards the door. _

"_Move," she'd snapped when Nathan refused to budge from blocking the doorway. _

"_Damn, Peyt," he'd watched as Nathan stared down at Peyton with a wolfish grin, "taking people down in order to feel better about yourself. And I thought you could sink no lower," he snorted. "Tell me, you feel better now?" _

"_Do __you__?" she'd whispered. _

_Her scowl melted into a smirk as she slunk in closer and gave him her most pretentious gaze. In that moment, Lucas understood every warning he'd been given regarding Peyton Sawyer. She was an actress, a very—_very _­talented and underappreciated actress._

In an attempt to ignore the dominant memory, he grabs for the shampoo and slathers it between his hands before rubbing it into his hair. He'd wondered what had been Peyton's reason behind seducing him. What was the point if she didn't feel for him what he'd once felt for her?

What was it that made her hate her best friend so much that she'd scheme behind her back to hurt her so badly? Suddenly all the past thoughts of fate and destiny sound like crap and he starts to wonder if perhaps all those books he has in his room are full of shit as well. Because the question is ridiculous.

He should be asking how the hell he _himself_ could've hurt Brooke like that.

_Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds…_

Head bowed, he inhales a shallow breath and cringes. He can recite nearly every passage of love, destiny and sorrow from long gone authors and poets. But none ring more true to him then now when he feels he's hit rock bottom.

_That looks on tempests and is never shaken;_

Shame washes over him in waves of despair and remorse. He'd obsessed over Peyton and loved Brooke and yet in the end he'd confused the two. He still feels something deep inside of him that feels empty without Brooke. She's only been gone for a few days and already it feels like forever.

But his actions make him doubt his love because even if all those books in his room are crap, Shakespeare is right. Lucas has failed nearly every verse in the famous Sonnet 116, the one that he knows to be Brooke's favorite lyrical poem to read out loud.

_If this be error and upon me proved, _

He'd failed her in every way and he hadn't even realized it until it was too late. Caught up in the illusions of true love and fate and everything happening for a reason.

_I never writ, nor no man ever loved._

So perhaps Shakespeare truly _is _right, and it's just him who's been failing. Maybe it means he hadn't really been in love to begin with? He snorts and rinses his head in the water that now feels warm rather than hot. He shuts off the shower, reaches for his towel and steps outside the tub.

Never really been in love? Bullshit.

He'd been in love. With Brooke. But he'd also been manipulated to doubt it and for that reason alone Lucas realizes he doesn't deserve her. He shakes his head and wipes a clean streak across the fogged up mirror to stare at himself.

"But you will_,_" he promises himself.

---x---

_**March 12**__**th**_

"_Oh, Rhett!"_

"_It's my duty to blade boys at the front, to keep our girls at home looking pretty."_

The squalid crunch of popcorn muffles the rest of the dialogue. But she's seen this movie so many times she knows exactly what it is they're saying. At least this time the dialogue isn't muffled further by her own pathetic crying.

"_How do I look?" _

"_Awful, just awful!"_

Another handful of popcorn shoves it way into her mouth closely followed by a huge gulp of Coca Cola—straight from the _red _can. Oh no, not the silver one, the _red_ one. Nothing but sugar and carbohydrates that will go straight to her thighs.

"_Rhett, I really can't go on accepting these gifts. Though you are awfully kind."_

"_I'm not kind. I'm just tempting you. I never give anything without expecting something in return. I always get paid."_

Brooke snorts at Rhett's charming arrogance and glances back at Scarlett O'Hara in envy. Where is Brooke's 'Rhett,' huh? Why the hell can't she have a hot bad boy at her beck and call? Is it so much to ask for someone to understand and answer you without ever having said one word? Especially after the past months of being lied to.

After almost four days of wallowing in self pity she's even tired of herself.

"_If you think I'll marry you just to pay for the bonnet, I won't." _The brunette on the TV-screen pouts and flicks her hair in a nonchalant manner.

"_Don't flatter yourself, I'm not a marrying man."_

She snorts at this and grabs another handful of popcorn.

"_Well, I won't kiss you for it, either_." Scarlett huffs.

"_Open your eyes and look at me." _Rhett demands with a hand held firmly at her chin and Brooke perks up on the couch because this is one of her favorite scenes. Even with a badly mended broken heart, she still enjoys Rhett Butler as much as the next girl.

"_No, I don't think I will kiss you," _The man grumbles_, "Although you need kissing badly. That's what's wrong with you. You should be kissed, and often, and by someone who knows how."_

_Sa-wooon_. God, what Brooke wouldn't give to be Scarlett in that scene. Or that movie.

Or that life…

"_And I suppose that you think that you are the proper person?"_

A knock at the door interrupts her little pity party of one. Brooke sighs and gets up in search of the DVD remote.

"_I might be, if_—" Pause.

Dragging herself up from the couch and towards the front door, Brooke runs a hand across the screen as she passes. Her fingertips lightly caressing the handsome face of Rhett Bulter—aka Clark Gable.

"I'm coming!" she shouts in annoyance when the knocking makes way to pounding. "Oh my gosh, seriously, Owen? You couldn't just use the key that I _know_ you swiped from under the matt that Rachel keeps blaming _me_ for taking?" she grumbles on her way to the door.

_Bam! Bam! Bam!_

"You are so dead, Owe—_oh_," she stops mid-sentence, "it's _you_."

The disappointment shows on her face and she really doesn't mean it. Somehow she hopes that he won't take offense, won't hold her current attitude against her. It's just that it's been merely four days since the LP fiasco and she hasn't seen him since she stumbled out of his car in the middle of the night.

With everything that's been on her mind, she hasn't really had the time to digest what they did in his backseat and it makes her uncomfortable.

With a hint of a delicious smirk on his lips, Nathan leans against the doorframe with crossed arms and looks her from head to toe and back again.

"You look…" he pauses to mull it over a bit.

Brooke straightens up a bit out of reflex and unconsciously raises a hand to touch the messy bun at the back of her head. She knows she looks a mess, hell, she hasn't showered at all today. She's bound to have some major funk and although she's in her cute pink boy shorts and small matching cami top, she knows—_knows_ she looks…

"_Awful_," he finishes, a grimace taking over the arrogant leer.

Her shoulders sag almost instantly, "What are you doing here?" she growls.

Suddenly his eyes are trained below her face and one quick glance down makes her scoff and cross her arms over her chest.

"Cold?" Nathan's smirk grows higher just as his eyes meet hers.

"Fuck you, Scott. What do you want?" she snaps.

She sounds angry, bitchy even, but the strange thing is that his half-insinuating, half-disrespectful comments feels weirdly calming. This, she knows. This, she can deal with and handle.

"How you doing?" he asks, and just because of that, his voice is softer for a second, throwing her off.

She grunts, "Like you care. Why are you _here?_"

"This breakup stopped being a joke when I realized that I'm not laughing," he shakes his head and steps through the doorway and into the house. "And I don't know why I ever thought that I would." His hand reaches up towards her face.

"Don't touch me," she mutters and brushes his hand away. "I can't believe you dared to even show up here after—"

"After I fucked you in the back of my truck?" he snorts. "As to why I'm here? I thought it was about time someone came over here to get you out of fake mourning."

Her eyes blaze with fire because even though she's used to Nathan's assy ways, this is a bad time to fuck with her like this. She feels bad enough as it is.

"Please do not mistake my dry eyes and annoyed scowl for _fake mourning_," she growls. "And as for what happened the other night?" her eyes dart down to the ground, "it won't happen again." Her gaze lifts to meet his again, "And we shouldn't talk about it, I was… I wasn't myself that night," she replies as if from embarrassment.

"You little hypocrite," he scoffs, "you knew damn well what would happen the _moment _you got into your car and drove to my house. _You _came to _me_, Brooke. So don't you start acting all shameful and timid. 'Cause if you're trying to imply that I took advantage of you? Then that's bullshit!"

"And I suppose you showing me what was going on behind my back was better than just _telling _me? Like I could ever erase that image from mind, Nathan! It's there for life!" she shouts angrily.

"Okay," he nods with false patience, "three things," he holds up three expressive fingers. "One," he drops the other two and points at her, "you avoid me at school like the plague. Better yet in fact, you avoid me altogether as if I don't exist."

"I do no—"

"_Two_," he cuts her off and raises another finger in her face, "you would have never in a million years believed me if I _told_ you what was going on behind your back."

"You don't know tha—"

"And _three_," all three fingers are set directly in front of her nose where he soon replaces them with his intense gaze and tight jaw. "Three?" he snorts, "I did you a _favor_. He never deserved you, anyways."

She blinks at this in surprise, but instead of reading too much into his words, she brushes them off with a bitter laugh.

"Oh," she overdramatically places a hand against her heart, "you did me a _favor!_" her eyes roll deeply as her shoulders rise and fall. "How awfully _kind_ of you, Nathan."

Nathan's boyish face looks years older in that moment, a short grunt of air pushing past his lips in disbelief. "I never said I was kind. I also never do anything unless I feel it is to my own benefit," he leans in and scowls.

"So what now, Nathan? Huh? Are you expecting me to be bursting with so much gratefulness that I'd just let you come over and claim me? Huh? Is that what you thought—no, wait," she snorts, "is that what you _planned?_"

He just stares down at her and shakes his head speechless.

"If you thought I'd be begging you to help restore my faith in—"

"Don't flatter yourself, Davis," he stops her short and flicks a loose lock of hair off her shoulder. "I'm not the relationship type."

"Well I won't fuck you either," she all but snarls back at him and turns to give him her back so that she can walk to the door and kick him out.

But she doesn't get far, she rarely does when she's around him. Suddenly she's jerked back around and shoved up against his chest.

"Your mouth moves," his thumb presses against her lips until it pushes inside and grazes her teeth and the tip of her tongue, "but nothing's really coming out."

She trembles right there under his gaze and in his hands.

"Relax," he whispers so close to her mouth that her eyes flutter closed, "I'm not going to kiss you." His breath caresses her lips and makes her think otherwise. "I'm not going to fuck you," he adds onto the list of things he says he won't do, "although you look like you need it badly," he chuckles.

The vibration against her chest sets her heart racing and her breaths in small quick pants. Her tongue continuously fights not to lick the thumb he has pressed against her lips. She keeps fighting the urge to suck his finger straight past her lips and into her mouth.

"You want me, don't you?" he laughs again and nods as his free hand travels down the curve of her neck to rest onto her hip. "You see, Brooke? That's what's wrong with you," he says and removes his thumb from her mouth to pad over her cheek and down to her chin. "You need to be fucked good and proper and on a regular basis."

He leans in closer, so close as if to meet his mouth with hers but veers to the right and moves to her ear instead. "And by someone who knows exactly where to touch you," his thumb travel down to between her breasts and keeps moving south, "someone who knows what they're doing…"

"Is that so?" she manages to finally find her voice just as his fingers reach the bottom of her thin top and trickle up underneath. His intimate touch causes a strained gulp from her dry mouth. "And I suppose you're implying that person is you?"

When he says nothing in return her eyes slowly wake and she sees him grinning down at her almost evilly. With a quickness she usually only sees from him on the court, he's across the room and at the door.

"Nope," he says pulling his keys out of his pocket and reaches to open the door.

"You are _disgusting_ and I don't know why it was that I ever let you touch me," she spits out at him ashamed of her earlier reaction.

A pair of sunglasses emerges from his pocket and he opens them up, cleans them with the bottom of his shirt and then looks at her again.

"I'll tell you why, Brooke," that jackass smirk is back, "because I'm the only Scott in Tree Hill who does it for you. But don't worry," he pauses to slide the glasses over his eyes, "I'm sure you'll be back to your old self in no time."

She stands there speechless and waits until he's gone and out of sight before she moves back over to the couch to collect herself. She guzzles down what's left of her coke and jumps up to grab a new can. Then she sits back down and grabs the remote to finish watching _Gone With The Wind_, as she'd originally planned.

She can't help but be annoyed with a lingering feeling of déjà vu. But she doesn't dwell, she rewinds the DVD a few frames and settles right back into the couch. Fuck Nathan and his cocky self. She's hurting and just because he can make her forget about the pain for a little while, it never lasts.

Because the image of Peyton's lips against Lucas' is burned into her memory. When she closes her eyes there they are.

"_Open your eyes and look at me. No, I don't think I will kiss you. Although you need kissing badly. That's what's wrong with you. You should be kissed, and often, and by someone who knows how." _

"_And I suppose that you think that you are the proper person?"_

Brooke lays her head back down onto her pillow and wipes away the faintest tingling of tears behind her eyes. A few blinks and the tingling is gone, so she watches the TV and stares at Rhett as he gazes into Scarlett's eyes.

"_I might be, if the right moment ever came."_

---x---

**Q: **Owen, Nathan & Lucas. _Fuck, Marry or Kill. _And for those of you who prefer the opposite sex: Rachel, Brooke & Peyton (we have a feeling we know who you'd kill…).

---x---

Check out the LJ to see the Gone With The Wind scene Brooke was watching! (link in profile!)

---x---

**Special Thanks**

We truly have some awesome ass reviewers. You not only read the fic but you READ this fic. You interpret the fic, you have valid questions and guesses and opinions. We love that you understand that certain plotlines are a process. We know that at times things can be slow, that they sometimes can make you mad and want to give up on us... But damn are you awesome for sticking through and continuing on with us.

We appreciate every single review and love you all. But we feel the need to single out a few extra exceptional reviewers who go way above and beyond every time they review:

Julian b, CoffeeWithCinnamon, Love's Crash Test Dummy, Rachtree, Fire Tears X, Lizzy, Yana

We know there are wayyy more people to thank and if you **check out the LJ** there will be more thank you's listed in a few days. Bottom line, you (everyone who has ever reviewed) have all just really blown us away with how awesome you are. So, thank you for that. You all motivate us to be our best. ;)


	27. Calm Like A Bomb

**Part 2: **_**Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 26 – **_**Calm Like A Bomb**_

**Junior Year**

---x---

_**March 13**__**th**_

Just like the last time she asked him something to make him question the level of their friendship, she approaches him with those big brown eyes. She's so fragile in that moment that when he looks at her he swears he sees an endangered species, because she is such a rare creature. Uncorrupted by today's immoral standards of high school adolescence.

No one walks through life with the hopes and dreams that Haley James bestows inside herself. She sees the good where people see the bad. She gives chances where they're not deserved and she keeps on. Which is the only reason he doesn't tell her shove it when she starts to talk about Lucas.

"He's really upset over what's happened," she sighs and sits down at the table he's currently wiping down. "I don't know what to do. He won't leave his room except to go to school or work here at the café. And Karen says he's messed up orders, and broken more dishes than he's served correctly."

"I can put in more shift hours, I mean it's not like I don't need them," Jake offers. "Give Luke some alone time. He has to mend his own broken heart," his tone comes out less than friendly but not quite insulting.

Haley blinks in surprise, "Yeah, well…" she bites her bottom lip, "I don't know. Maybe asking you was a bad idea. You don't know him like I do," she sighs.

"And you know what, Haley? You are absolutely right," Jake points out the obvious. "I _don't _know Lucas like you do," he snaps suddenly. "Because the Lucas I _thought _I knew? Wouldn't have done what he did."

"Jake," Haley gapes in utter disbelief, "I…" she has no words for what she feels just then.

"Look," he starts with a scowl, "he did what he did. It's over and it's done. He can't take it back and you can't coddle him while he's trying to deal with it. I'm sorry if I come off as mean or as if I don't _understand_, but I still can't believe he actually did it," he shrugs.

Haley stands and says nothing.

"I mean, he swears up and down that he is so much better than Nathan and look what he does? He lies, cheats and steals," he scoffs. "He is the epitome of everything he used to stand up against. He's lucky to still have friends at all."

"Jake," Haley finally finds her voice, "he made a mistake," her voice is soft as she leans forward a bit to gain his attention. "I would think that out of anyone, you'd understand that." She says referring to his situation with Nikki.

Jake takes a step back and grabs his dish rag, "Haley," he says through a forced breath, "when are you going to wake up, baby?"

She doesn't understand and he knows she doesn't, and for that he envies her. But he also feels sorry for her, and it's the sympathy that trumps his slight resentment and makes him push his opinions to the side.

"If you _really _believe that," he takes a deep breath, "then I will help you get him through this. If you _really _believe that Lucas isn't just like everyone else—even those that you look down on for being over privileged and popular," he chuckles bitterly, "then okay. I'll help you. But know that I'm only doing it for _you_."

Then his eyes lock with hers, "Not him," he adds solemn.

"Why me?" she asks in a small voice that sounds childlike.

Jake's lips curve into a tired smile, "Because kid," he shakes his head, "you're the last of your kind now."

---x---

_**March 15**__**th**_

Its past noon when Rachel steps out of the frat house and the sun beats down on her face. There some kind of unorganized flag-football game going on right on the front lawn and she chuckles when Tyler takes a hit and makes a face-plant straight into the dirt.

She can hear Owen jiggle her car keys over her shoulder and she absentmindedly reaches up and grabs them while thinking of Brooke. Apart from two days ago when she dragged her to the nail salon, the girl has hardly left the house since she broke up with Lucas and Rachel had felt like a really sucky friend last night when she left to go up to Duke.

It's not like she hadn't tried to invite Brooke along, but she wasn't about to beg or drag the girl out either. However, the countdown of her grief period has begun in Rachel's mind and she'll give the brokenhearted girl three more days before she sticks a foot up the girl's sorrowful ass. Until then, Rachel is stuck with a lot of unanswered questions.

She had been so sure that Brooke would fall back into the FWB-deal with Nate, but maybe she'd been wrong?

"We leaving?" Owen questions behind her, bringing her out of her thoughts. His hand resting on the small of her back pushes slightly and she takes a step forward, feeling lucky that _her_ man is not a cheating ass.

"Maybe we should-" she starts but she's interrupted when Owen suddenly lets out a roar of excitement and storms past her down the porch stairs.

"_Chase_! What the fuck are you doing here?!"

He sounds like a happy little kid and she looks up in search for the scrawny and kind of shy-acting skater boy that used to be Owens wingman back when they first started hooking up.

She looks everywhere in the crowd of college boys on the lawn but she can't find him.

Instead she watches in total confusion as Owens grin stretches even wider over his face and he offers a high five to a tanned guy with dark tussled hair and worn t-shirt that says 'Kingstown is love'.

"You're not supposed to be home for another month!" Owen shouts so loudly that even the rowdy flag-football game halts for a second. "Why the fuck didn't you call me? I would've come to pick you up!"

The guy laughs and takes off his sunglasses before he sidesteps the outstretched hand that Owen offers and gathers her huge boyfriend in a hug.

And that's when she sees it. It _is_ Chase! But-

"Oh my God!" she bursts out in a very Brooke-like manner and quickens her step to make it over to the boys. "Is that _you_, Chase Adams!? Wow..."

When Owen lets go, she trails fingers down the lean but well defined bicep of the guy she hardly recognizes and looks up at his face, shocked. "You have _muscles_, Chase!"

He laughs back genuinely and gives her a hug and a thorough look-over in return.

"Rachel Gatina," he nods with what looks like a satisfied grin, "good to see you again. I figured that you were keeping my boy in check. His mom hasn't called me once in six months. And believe me, that hasn't happened since we were in third grade."

Owen chuckles amused and his arms circle around Rachel's waist almost proudly. "It wasn't that bad, man. _Your_ mom still calls _me_ though." His fingers find the belt loops of Rachel's jeans and he pulls her back closer to his chest before faking a woman's voice, "_Where is my little boy, Owen? Is he alright _all alone_ in the jungle? You should go get him home for me Owen…_"

Rachel laughs when Chase scrunches his face and flips Owens antics off with a flick of his hand. "Shut up, dude! My mom is _proud_ of me."

"Yeah suure..." Owen nods but then he bends his head down and his lips press down gently against the soft skin of Rachel's neck. His voice is low and playful in her ear. "Chase's mom has a crush on me."

This time she bursts out laughing loudly and the tingle from Owens kisses just adds to the happy feeling in her belly. It's easy to see that he loves having his friend back. He doesn't talk about, it because frankly – they don't do the whole pillow-talk thing, but he _has_ to have missed having his boys around more than he's let on. Having Chase leave and then Kellan so soon after must have sucked majorly.

"It's good to see you too, Chase," she admits, realizing that she really means it. "Owens room looks like a pigsty and he plans on letting Scooter move into the house. I swear to God, the guys are like kids when you're not around."

She makes a playful pout and turns her head to look up at her boyfriend, who in turn groans and bites her earlobe.

"No pouting, Raye," he mutters against her skin, "I get enough of that from Brookie." But when she just mimics Brooke further and pushes her bottom lip out even more, Owen throws his head back and sighs defeated while his hand unconsciously travels up under her t-shirt.

"Okay, _okay_," he whines, "Scooter won't move in." And instantly she smirks satisfied.

_So_ _easy_.

_Hm__m…_ Maybe _too_ easy?

She glances back at Chase and he's smiling amused.

"I should have known that you'd get the reigns of Sigma Nu, O," he nods and she can feel her cocky boyfriend shrug behind her.

"Of course, man. I even saved you a room for when you'd get tired of the jungle."

Huh? Oh that little rat, she thinks and presses her ass against the front of Owens jeans to tease him. He never planned on giving it to Scooter, the empty room has probably had Chase's name on it all along. But just as she's about to turn around and give him her thoughts, Owen presses his hips against her in an unconscious response.

"Babe, would you be mad if I hung out with Chase today instead?" he pleads with his stubbled cheek still pressed to hers. "I know we said we was gonna–"

"Shut up baby," she chastises and now when she turns, she does it to kiss him fully on the lips, "Go play with your friend, kay babe? We'll hook up later." A quick glance at her wrist watch, "I need to check on baby Brooke anyway. She's gonna get fat if she keeps chugging down ice cream like she has the last week."

And honestly? She has no problem leaving Owen with Chase Adams. Out of all of Owens friends, she trusts the skater the most – even though she hardly had time to get to know him before he skipped country last year. Whereas Kellan had been Owens hotheaded partner in crime, Chase had been the anchor that kept Kel and O grounded.

Back then, when she and Owen were just fucking around, Chase had proved himself about as levelheaded as college boys come and he had meddled between them more than a couple of times. It's a shame really that Brooke had been way too preoccupied with Kellan to take notice of Owens other most trusted friend.

Another quick peck on her boys lips and then she simply waves to Chase and winks, before starting to walk over to her car. She yelps when Owen slaps her ass.

"Love you baby," he says too soft to go with the chauvinistic action and she just grins and keeps walking.

"Have fun boys," she shouts back.

Chase watches her leave, hips swaying and heels clicking against the asphalt.

"So I guess you weren't lying in those emails, Morello," he mumbles as Rachel gets into the vehicle and closes the door. "You and Rachel are still thick as thieves."

"I told you, man," Owen replies seriously, "I am officially reformed."

Silence lingers between the two boys in the parking lot and when Chase finally looks at Owen, he looks curious.

"It's been over a _year_, dude. Are you telling me that your ass has been faithful to that redhead since I left? Even without me here as your conscience?"

Owen scratches the back of his neck and the slight blush that creeps up on his cheeks makes him feel even more ridiculous. "Um," he mumbles, "Remember when I slept with Lisa just before you went to Curacao?"

"Yeah? At the first game of the season?" Chase nods, "Rachel got you worked up over that dude from the swim-team and you retaliated. I _tried_ to help you out, man, but I had to go to the airport and–"

"That was the last girl," Owen looks down the road where Rachel's black Denali has now disappeared. "The last sidestep. It's been all her since."

When Chase's jaw drops Owen doesn't even feel annoyed. He's well aware of the rep he's kept up pretty much since kindergarten. Owen Morello's biggest interest? Girls, girls and more girls. In every way, shape and form.

Tits and ass, with a side order of great legs.

When Chase started skating, Owen started flirting. When Chase got good enough hit the ramps, Owen concentrated on team sports, made captain of his middle school football team–and flirted some more.

Since then it's been football and girls. His two top priorities.

Chase learnt how to do nosegrabs and flying 360's and became Miranda Joseph's boyfriend. Owen made touchdown after touchdown and slept his way through the entire female half of their high school—starting with the two years older cheerleading captain.

Chase grins as if he knows what he's thinking. "You never should have worked your way into Shawna McIntyre's panties, freshman year in high school. You've been obsessed with pussy ever since."

True maybe. He's always had a thing for those tiny cheer skirts. When Rachel wears hers, he just wants to stomp right out on the court and…

He stops that thought before it turns into a full blown wet dream and laughs at Chase's knowingly raised brow.

"Can you blame me? Shawna was _hot _and I was fourteen years old. Plus, it's not my fault that you were so busy on that skateboard that you was a virgin until you were seventeen." He sticks his tongue out like a five year old and when Chase mimics the gesture, they both laugh.

It's so weird standing in the Duke parking lot talking to his best friend. It's been 14 months. And apart from the stray emails that Chase mentioned, he hasn't talked to him more than twice on the phone. Still, it feels as if he saw Chase just this morning and no time has passed.

"It's good to have you back, man," he says more seriously and Chase nods in agreement.

If it was Tyler, then this would be when Ty would burst out laughing, telling him to stop being a girl. And if it was Preppy, then the younger boy would make a face and kick his sneaker in the gravel, embarrassed with the sudden seriousness.

But Chase is like him. Always has been.

"I've missed you too, Morello," Chase says and squeezes his shoulder. "But I still want the details about you and Rachel. I mean I know you had it bad for her from get-go. But I honestly figured that you'd _never_ give up that pussy-tour of yours. What's changed?"

Owen rests his arm around Chase's shoulders and directs his friend back towards the frat house.

"What can I say? The girl knocked me down," he rolls his eyes and adds, "sure, she drives me insane. We break up twice a week and I swear, sometimes I literally want to slap her because she's so damn jaded and stubborn, but—"

"But he _looves_ her," Tyler shouts childishly from his spot on the lawn. "Admit it, O. Raye's got you all kinds of twisted around her finger. This sucker's got season tickets to fucksville he's so pussy-whipped!"

Chase bursts out laughing and Owen glares at his teammate.

"And that ass-hat here is Tyler Gage," he growls, "the fucking _bane_ of my existence."

"I like him," Chase chuckles. "He reminds me of Kellan."

"Yeah? Wait until you've lived with him for a week," he smirks.

They make it into the spacious but messy kitchen and Owen grabs them two ice cold beers. He opens both bottles before handing one to Chase and then gulps down half of his own.

"Maybe I've grown up a little?" he shrugs and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Tyler is right, I'm straight up _stupid_ for Rachel and she's all the girl I need. And I wouldn't have time for the old pussy-tour anyway. With all the drama that she and little B brings into this house, I swear it's as if I was living at home with Adrianne, Jaquie, Maddy and Dani again."

Chase leans against the kitchen counter and sips on the cold liquid. "That bad, huh?" he chuckles. "What about that girl Elle then? Your last email made it sound like you were in a bit of a jam with her. You ever figured that mess out?"

Owen chugs down the rest of his beer in one go and frowns.

"Yeah, Elle's a great girl," he mumbles and his eyes stray to a piece of paper pinned to the fridge with a basketball magnet. "She's uh, she's a… friend."

Case closed. Chase knows better than to dig. Or maybe not.

"You wanna talk about it?" the former skater-boy asks.

"Uh–" he runs his fingers through his hair and mumbles, "maybe later?"

And when he opens the fridge for another beer, he takes down the note and shoves it in his pocket. Then he grins.

"So how about the Amazons, dude? Banged any hot native chicks lately?"

Chase rolls his eyes and sighs before mumbling something that sounds like, "Grown up, my ass…" and then Rachel texts him.

_fuck U 4 leavin that cheeseburger in my car__! carwash is on ur ass_

Everything feels just like old times.

---x---

It's past noon and Rachel has spent the night at Duke, which means that the redhead won't be back for another couple of hours at least. And since she's bored out of her mind, Brooke leaves the house willingly for the first time in days.

She has something she needs to do and can't put it off any further. She might as well deal with it now when Rachel isn't home to watch over her.

Plus, it's Sunday so she's pretty sure that the resident of the house she's just parked in front of will be home – maybe even still asleep.

She misses the old times. When Peyton wasn't such a bitch and their only conflict was fighting over who was going to marry which Nsync boy. Oh, and then there was the continuous fight of who was the hotter boy from Saved By The Bell.

Zack or Slater.

Truthfully, they always had agreed to disagree because when one chose Zack the other chose Slater and then the next fight they would switch.

At the age of 14 Brooke witnessed her first catfight brawl in middle school and she and Peyton had agreed to never fight over boys. Together they sat in Peyton's room coming up with a written agreement in which they placed into a tin box, along with other valuable items and buried near the thickest and tallest tree down by the river court.

Part of the agreement was to write a list of boys that they were allowed to date. Code of conduct, no dating ex-boyfriends and _absolutely under no circumstances_…

Hook up with the other girls current boyfriend or fuck-buddy. Although at the time 'fuck-buddy' was not the term used. Brooke had chosen to say _special friend_ and Peyton had crossed it out to replace with the previous statement. Afterwards to consummate their agreement, Brooke and Peyton each decided to write their _lists _on Peyton's closet doors.

And as the years flew by, names were added, traded and erased. Names with hearts beside them were completely and utterly off limits… _forever_.

Lucas was the only name to ever have a heart drawn beside him.

The door to the house she'd grown up in isn't locked of course—it never is. She wonders if Peyton doesn't lock it because she secretly hopes to be kidnapped in the middle of the night. Never to return again. She also sleeps with her window open as well. Another warning sign of careless and reckless behavior.

Brooke sneaks in, closing the thick wooden door silently behind her. The hallway looks so familiar that she almost stops and walks back out. It's been months since she had a sleepover in this house, weeks since she was even here to visit. But it looks like time has stopped when she sees her windbreaker hanging over a chair as if everything is as it used to be – and in real life, _nothing_ feels like it should. She's basically lived here while growing up and now she feels like a burglar, tiptoeing up the stairs without even making herself known.

But the further up she gets, the more the uneasiness in her stomach turns to anger. And by the time she walks through the door to Peyton's bedroom, her temper is absolutely flaring.

_How can she sleep so peacefully when she's completely ruined her__ 'best friends' life? _

She stomps through the dim-lit room, over to the walk in closet and swings the painted black doors open. On the inside of them, all the boys they've crushed on since childhood are listed.

Hers on the left side. Peyton's on the right.

And there–halfway down the left door–is _his_ name written with white marker and a small red polished heart.

_Lucas Scott._

Her throat tightens as she remembers the exact day she drew that heart. It was four weeks, 2 days and 3 hours after writing his name. Her hands lash out to slap open the double doors to the left of the small bathroom. A groan comes from the bed when the doors make a slamming sound against the wall and her curly blonde childhood friend sits up.

"Brooke?" Peyton asks confused, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Trust me, I'm not here by choice," she snaps and looks around for something to wipe the name off with.

She can hear Peyton getting up but she sticks to her mission. She just needs to get this done. Then she'll leave. She has _nothing_ to say to Peyton Sawyer that Rachel's fist hasn't already said. Anything else would be a repeat… which isn't a bad option seeing as how the repeat would be a fist to Peyton's face.

And yet the skinny blonde still shuffles out of bed, thin legs half-covered by an oversized t-shirt. "What are you doing?" she rasps, voice still sleepy, and Brooke spins around to face her against her better judgment.

"What am I doing?" she laughs in her face incredulously. "I would think it's pretty obvious, Peyton."

"Uh, no," her sleepy counterpart scowls.

"He was on the _door_, Peyton!" she barks, because suddenly she can't contain the anger any longer, "He was on the damn door, under _my_ name! You had no fucking right!"

For a second Peyton's mouth just stays open in shock and something that looks like regret flickers in her eyes before she scowls and crosses her stick-thin arms over her chest.

"Don't be ridiculous," she mutters, "that door means nothing. It's just a childish remnant of your slutty ways." The blonde waves a hand towards the names on the left door, "How many times had we traded back and forth anyways?"

Brooke shudders in disgust and tries to figure out if punching Peyton will make it all better. She wants to ram her clenched fist right into Peyton's face, just for the hell of it. Hear the sound of her nose breaking and hopefully knock her to the floor.

But at the last second she catches something with her peripheral vision. A name on the right door—under Peyton.

Nathan Scott.

The letters look worn and almost unreadable from the multiple times its been scratched out and rewritten. At the time it'd first been written, Brooke had never even thought of the possibility of her and Nathan ever hooking up.

Name or no name on the damn door.

"Look B. Davis," Peyton dares to call her after everything.

Brooke's eyes narrow hatefully, "Do _not _call me that."

"Why?" Peyton starts with a smug ass look on her face.

The smirk makes the skin at her eyes crinkle and the fading black eye she'd been given by Rachel becomes visible. It's almost completely healed and only noticeable now because Brooke knows it's there.

"Because we are not friends anymore, Peyton!" she screams back at her.

Peyton flinches back a step in surprise and then covers her mouth with a hand to hold back a laugh. "Wow," she snickers, "that is quite possibly the most worked up I think I've ever seen you. Well," she shrugs, "except for that one time Claire Young stole some moves from your cheer routine and won first place."

"You are such a bitch," Brooke sneers and instead of punching the curly blonde right between her eyes, she pulls her hand into the sleeve of her sweater and uses the fabric to wipe away Lucas' name from her list.

"He's all yours," she spits. "I'm done with him."

For a moment she contemplates wiping down the entire door, just so that nothing of hers will be left in this room, but she realizes instantly how useless it'd be. This entire house is full of her things. That's what happens when you grow up with someone.

"God, Brooke. Would you stop being so damn dramatic?" Peyton scoffs in annoyance. "I mean seriously, come on! You never loved him anyway," she sighs from behind her. "It's all just games, remember? Everything's fair when fucking or cheering? Wasn't that your sophomore year motto?"

But Brooke doesn't even turn to answer that.

She's not going to give Peyton the pleasure of hearing her repeat that she did love Lucas Scott, more than she had allowed herself to love any boy. She also won't explicate the fact that Sophomore year was the year when she first had sex with his brother—whose name is not on the left door under her own.

"No, I think you're getting it mixed up with _your_ motto. Which is to be a lying, backstabbing, two-faced _bitch_ to the one person who still cared about you!"

"Oh please!" Peyton shrieks, finally getting worked up enough to show real emotion. "The only lying bitch in this room is _you_."

"_Excuse me?_"

"_Excuse me?_" she mocks in a whiney voice. "You're the one who lied and told Lucas you were having family issues when the truth is that you were out being a skank with Rachel!"

"That is ridiculous! I was forced to attend some stupid ball that was my parents excuse to showcase me around like a fucking poodle at a dog show! You _know_ I hate those things and you _know_—"

"The only thing I _know_, Brooke?" Peyton cuts her off, "Is that you spent half the night with _my _boyfriend—"

"Oh please," Brooke scowls, "Nathan isn't your boyfriend and hasn't been for a very long time now. And anyways that doesn't even matter, you and I both know that me and Nathan get paired up all the damn time at those stupid events. The _real _point here is that you don't love him and I loved Lucas and you just couldn't stand the fact that _I_ was happy and _you_ weren't!"

"Of course I'm not happy!" she screams, "How can I when _you _dominate _everything _in my life? It's always you, you_, you!_ _**You**_get invited to parties and _I _tag along. _**You**_got invited to try out for cheerleading and you _dragged _me along with you and then _**you **_got cheer captain! _**You **_got the lead freshmen year for a play that _I _wrote! And _**you **_are the only one who makes my dad laugh when he comes home and _**you **_are always the first person he asks about when we finally have two seconds to talk to each other! _You, you, __**you!**_ I'm so fucking _sick _of it!"

She screams so loud that Brooke flinches and takes a step back in shock.

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you now?" she mutters uncaring. "Because that was the biggest load of crap I have ever heard in my entire life."

"Get out," Peyton snivels and wipes a hand over her wet cheeks.

"My pleasure," she looks the girl up and down snobbish and wrinkles her nose as if she's smelt something horrid. "You have no idea how glad I am to finally be rid of your dead weight," she mutters.

Peyton's horrified look makes Brooke's insides twist and knot but she refuses to feel sorry for the girl who'd deliberately set out to hurt her. And for what? Because she was jealous? Did misery really love company _that _much? She turns to leave the room, her back to the stupid doors and the pointless names.

"Three times," Peyton calls out.

Brooke's back stiffens where she stands with her hand on the wall beside her escape route. She tries to push forward, to resist the obvious taunting attempt to have the last word. She's good at that, always has been. She hates Peyton for so many reasons but its this one that she hates her most. Her inability to just fucking _let go_.

"Three times, what?" Brooke replies with a sigh.

She can feel Peyton moving across the room to creep up behind her and place a hand on her shoulder, "Three times I had him inside me panting _my_ name… _not _yours."

Bile rises up her throat, she swallows it back down and turns around to face Peyton. "Thank you," she whispers, catching the curly blonde off guard.

"Your welcome," Peyton spits back because she has no idea how else to respond.

Brooke continues on as if Peyton hadn't spoken at all, "Thanks for evening the score, Peyton. Because what you did was so much worse than anything I've ever done or could do. I _loved_ Lucas, and you can believe me or not because I really don't care."

"Good, because I don't," she sneers.

Brooke laughs softly to herself, "You don't believe in much of anything, do you Peyt?" she shakes her head sadly.

"Not even yourself," she adds and walks out the door.

---x---

_**March 16**__**th**_

It takes some major cajoling on Rachel's part but finally she gets Brooke off the couch. The brunette's been watching The Hill's and eating ice cream for a week now and Rachel can't stand to see her lazy ass looking like that anymore. With the promise of boys and booze, Rachel pulls Brooke up to her feet and grins.

Brooke however, is not amused.

"I'm done with boys," she mutters.

"Well then we'll have to get you a girl."

Brooke rolls her eyes and tries to sit back down.

"Don't make me lift you," Rachel snaps, "because I could totally pull a muscle from the weight of your fat ass. Especially since you've done nothing but sit and eat junk food for the past… well truthfully I've lost track of how long it's been." She folds her arms across her chest.

"Bite me," the childish brunette pouts.

"Sorry," Rachel frowns, "I'm on a no-bitch diet," her shoulders shrug. "Now get your ass moving. I want you showered and dressed in 30 minutes. I'll do your hair and makeup. In fact, let me choose your clothes too. You're taste suck as of late."

They stare at each other until Brooke lets out a pissed off huff and glares at the redhead.

"Tell me again, why it is that we're friends?"

---x---

"Where are we going?" she mutters uninterested when they're finally in the car a little over an hour later. Rachel turns the volume up on the car stereo and shrugs.

"Sigma Nu is having a small kegger."

"What's new?" Brooke sinks down into her seat looking defeated, "This is stupid, Raye. I really don't want to go."

She's seriously regretting even leaving the house. Sure, Lucas would never show up at one of the parties up at Duke, not after his first and only attempt at attending one, but it's not just about him. She's not sure that she'll do well with the whole social bit right now. She's still vulnerable, stingy and most of the time uncomfortably close to tears. A state that she's not used to and really doesn't want people to see her in. Not even the boys up at Duke.

Rachel, however, doesn't seem to care one bit about being gentle and understanding. As she backs the Denali out through the front gate, her redheaded friend unceremoniously rips open the can of worms.

"How long are you going to wallow in this, B?"

Maybe Rachel reasons that it's better to deal with it now than at the party. At least now that the car is in motion, Brooke can't run away.

"I'm not wallowing," she mutters back and stares out the window.

"Yes you are, Brooke. You know that he's not worth crying over, right?"

She can see her face turn cold in the reflection from the glass and she's wills it to stay that way so that Rachel will understand that this 'talk' is over before it even started. But Rachel stubbornly waits it out, in the patient way they always use on each other. A sort of telepathic argument over who is going to crack first. Feeling the last of her resolve slip away, Brooke gives up and sighs.

"I'm not _crying_ over him, Raye. I only cried that first night."

"Oh, you mean the night when you disappeared for hours and I was hella worried about you? _That _night? Yeah, that was nice."

The response is a little sarcastic and the tone might be a tiny bit harsh but Brooke knows that she doesn't mean it. It's just that it would be way too girly to admit that it hurts that Brooke wouldn't let her comfort her in this.

"Oh shut up," she mutters in a gentle voice. "I'm just so pissed off at myself for trusting someone, you know? _And_ for telling Lucas that I loved him." She snorts, "I mean, how stupid can I get? You were right from the start."

Surprisingly Rachel looks a little sad at that statement—the redhead had after all been the one to say that love was bullshit— but it was how she felt at the time so what's the use of lying? She had been an idiot to believe all Lucas' pretty words. It had been too good and she should have known better. Now she has to suck it up and reap what she's sown.

"At least you got some revenge," Rachel says and switches gear. "It's a good thing that you got with Nate at the party."

"Huh?"

For a second Brooke feels confused but then she understands and she sighs. "For the _last _time, I _didn't_ hook up with Nathan at that party! I _told_ you that. We were in his room talking. Nothing else. _I mean it_!"

"Oh…" there's a moment of silence while Rachel processes this piece of information and then the redhead grimaces. "That sucks…"

"Tell me about it," Brooke nods.

They take the exit up to the East 40 Interstate and Brooke busies herself with the radio, but it's mostly crap love-songs. So she shuts it off again and leans back into the seat just as Rachel chuckles, "Well, _now_ you can hook up with Nathan however much you want."

"Already did," Brooke answers without a second's hesitation. It feels nice to shut the redhead up. Rachel had probably been joking, still thinking that she was furious with Nate for the way he'd broken the news to her.

"What?"

Rachel stares at her instead of at the road and she can't help but to blush this time.

"He was the one I was with that first night," she mutters and Rachel rolls her eyes knowingly in response.

"Glad to hear you're back in the saddle," she smirks and Brooke puts her feet up on the dashboard, pouts and goes back to staring out through the window. The ride probably takes an hour and a half, even with Rachel's headless way of driving, and if Rachel is going to ask for the gory details of that night, then it's going to feel even longer.

But her best friend surprises her by just shrugging and says, "Well, it's perfectly normal to want to tap an old keg after a bad break-up. Plus, Nathan is more your type anyway."

She shakes her head. "I'm done with all things Scott," she gets out and makes her voice firm to show that the conversation needs to stop. "It was a _one-time_ thing."

Rachel just rolls her eyes again and there's no question of what that particular eye-roll means.

_Yeah right._

---x---

"We're here!" Rachel sings happily and unsnaps Brooke's belt, not caring one bit about the frown on her friend's face. "Come on, there's someone I want you to meet."

"Are you deaf?" Brooke scowls. "I said—"

"Sorry dear, I have selective hearing," Rachel replies and pulls Brooke out of the truck.

Enough is enough and however much the brunette fusses, they're still going. She needs to pull Brooke out of the funk she's in, preferably sooner than later. And if the girl doesn't want Nathan, then she'll find her someone else.

"You're a bitch," Brooke mumbles.

"I love you too," Rachel teases her friend back with a huge grin.

"Hey babe," Owen smiles and kisses Rachel when they approach him. He seems like he's been waiting for them and his arm curls around the redhead in a way that Brooke isn't used to.

Lie. When has Owen _not_ had his arm around her friend? It's just so much more apparent now–those tiny gestures. They're so much more 'relationship-like.' Maybe because she's not in a relationship anymore? Maybe because the relationship that she _was_ in had been a freaking joke?

"Sup, B?" he nods over at her and winks in that big brotherly way of his.

"Hey," Brooke mumbles back, "I _hate_ your girlfriend."

"Whoa, whoa," Rachel interrupts, "we don't use titles. Thank you very much."

Brooke rolls her eyes. She knows that Rachel's just sticking with her usual response, even months after officially becoming Owens girlfriend. Yet a small voice inside her head keeps mumbling that Rachel had been right all along. Serious relationships weren't for girls like herself. She wasn't meant to be a _girlfriend_. Hot – yes. Wanted – yes.

Loved – obviously not.

"Chase!" Rachel yelps and waves her hands to a dark haired boy further inside the room. "Come on B, I want you meet Owens friend. He's cute."

"No, thank you," Brooke grumbles in annoyance, maybe because she has to confess that if she weren't heartbroken, she would have drooled over the Chase-guy already.

"This is non-negotiable darling," her best friend replies with deep sarcasm and pulls at her wrist with clear determination.

Brooke looks to Owen and he shakes his head with a small laugh, "Don't look at me. She's _your_ friend."

"Whoa!" Brooke shouts. "We don't use titles, _thank you _very much."

"Ha. Ha." Rachel rolls her eyes and pinches Brooke's side.

"Ow!" she scowls.

"No pain, no gain, girl. Now get your game face on," Rachel winks and waves Chase over. "Hey you, come say hi to my bestest friend Brooke. She's the hottest girl—besides me—that you'll ever meet," her grin is wide and Brooke rolls her eyes.

"Hey," the guy holds a hand out, "I'm Chase. Actually, we've met before."

"Really?" her eyebrow quirks up, "And when would that have been?"

"Uh, I guess on a couple of occasions when you were making out with Kel," he smiles and shrugs as if it's perfectly normal, "I was the guy that told you to turn down the music at the parties. That _boring_ dude with the skateboard? Ring a bell?"

She eyes his hand with what must look like disgust before she finally takes it. He _is_ cute, in a 'Stephen Coletti'-kind of way, and she can't really deny that. When he mentions the skateboard, the name Chase _does_ trigger a faint memory in the back of her mind. Still, she's on a no boys-diet, and taken aside the slip up with Nathan the night of finding out about Lucas' cheating, she's going to try and stick to that deal.

"Listen Chase," she says in the driest tone she can muster, just so that he won't get any ideas. "I don't remember you and I don't know what Rachel here has promised, but I'm not gonna be your _hook-up_ for the evening," she throws Rachel yet another evil glare. "Although, if you feel like being a gentleman, you can always fetch me a drink."

She's sure that he'll get the brush off but the Chase-guy just looks a little surprised before a smile covers his face.

"Still feisty…" he chuckles and winks. "Well you're in luck, _Brooke_. I love helping damsels in distress. What's your poison?"

Lucas? Nathan? The tangled web of lies?

"I prefer Grey Goose, but anything with alcohol will due tonight," she snorts with a nonchalant shrug. "As of late, I'm not so picky."

Chase laughs again and this time it's even more genuine. It throws her off a bit and she glances over at her redheaded friend, but she gets no help from Rachel who's already busy with kissing Owen. And when Brooke sighs and looks away, Chase leans in a little closer.

"Broken heart or just a bad night in general?" he asks as he puts a hand on the small of her back and guides her towards the kitchen. "You know… I have the greatest remedy for broken hearts."

"Yeah?" she mumbles in a bored tone and scans the crowd, looking for Tyler. "And what would that be?" her tone is one of almost complete disinterest.

Lame lines like the ones Chase are using, annoy her to death. But when he doesn't answer, she actually becomes a little curious. There's something in the tone of his voice that reminds her of Owens big brotherly baritone. Maybe it's stupid, he probably just wants to screw her, but it actually sounds like he means well.

"Do you trust me?" he says and raises a brow, and she laughs dryly and shakes her head.

"Not in the least. But don't take it personal. Me and trust are in general a terrible match."

He gives her a glace over and tilts his head a little to the side. "So if I tell you that I make the meanest Caipirinhas ever, then you'd think I was lying?" he pushes his bottom lip out a little and pretends to look hurt, and even though it's the corniest thing ever, it actually entertains her.

She follows his lead and by now she has to pretend to be irritated because she's more and more intrigued with the way he's not at all bothered by her bad mood.

"I _could_ try it…" she teases, adding an extra huskiness to her voice, "but I should tell you, I've had a _lot_ of awesome Caipirinhas in the past."

The kitchen is crowded with people trying to get to the keg, but Chase seems to know everyone and he easily makes way. Once at the counter he surprises her by grabbing her waist and easily hoisting her up onto it. She lets out a girly squeal and he laughs when she scolds him with narrowed eyes and pursed ruby lips. He's not nearly as big as Owen or even Tyler but he's got strong arms. _Niiiice._

Sitting on the counter-top, dangling her legs while watching him take two glasses out of a cupboard, it all suddenly becomes a little too close for comfort. It _should_ probably remind her of time spent in here with Owen and his many friends, but instead she gets tiny flashbacks of a certain dark haired Scott-brother.

Which then makes her think of a _blonde_ Scott-brother.

"Just make the damn drink," she grumbles. "And you better be right because I need a serious escape-route."

"Don't worry. Ask Owen if you don't believe me. It's mended his broken heart lots of times."

_Owen_? She rolls her eyes at the ridiculousness. Since when did Owen get heartbroken and in need of medicating himself?

She scoots a little closer and watches as he brings out the stuff he needs from different cupboards and drawers. He looks very comfortable in the frat-house kitchen and it's strange because she can't remember ever seeing him here before. Not even last summer when she and Nathan had used the Sigma Nu house as their safe haven.

Then again, she had been busy with other stuff back then...

Chase starts to cut up lime-fruits with a steady hand and she tilts her head and asks;

"Why would _Owen_ need a heartbreak remedy?"

Chase looks up from his busy job cutting and smirks. "Are you kidding? That dude has gotten his heart crushed by Rachel more times than I care to count…" he rolls his eyes. "Does he still spend thirty hours a week just going back and forth to Tree Hill?"

She laughs because she knows what the guy means. She might not fully remember Chase—although it seems strange that she'd overlook a hottie like him—but his jab at Owen for being pussy-whipped by Rachel tells her that he must know Owen and Rachel very well. Rachel can be kind of hot/cold in the weird relationship she had with Big O, and Owen is a flirty asshole at times, but when it comes down to it, Owen Morello seems to do anything for her best friend.

Chase throws the cut of lime into a glass and adds some sugar.

"Why do you think he put up with it?" she mumbles, mostly to herself, "If she broke Owens heart so many times, shouldn't he have given up?"

It sounds ridiculous when she says it out loud and she bites her lip and hopes that he didn't hear her. This is a college-party for Christ's sake, she's being catered drinks by a cute 'almost stranger' on top of that, and she sitting here asking him questions like she's a thirteen year old at a sleepover. Chase doesn't seem to mind though. Either that, or he didn't listen.

"Cachaça?" he asks and she nods, happy that the guy really does seem to know how to make the drink.

In silence he crushes the lime with a muddler before filling the glass to the brim. "I didn't say it was Raye's fault," he starts, "they're _both_ crazy. I bet he did a number on her heart countless times as well. But they love each other, right?" After handing her the drink, he leans back against the counter right next to her. "And they seem to have gone a long way during these last months. Sometimes it just takes a while before people understand what it is they're feeling—and then a _liiiittle_ bit longer for them to finally say it out loud."

She sips the drink and watches him. A weird chain of thoughts develop in her head. She can't quite grip it but in a way it makes sense what the guy says. Rachel's loved Owen for ages but not once has she heard her friend say it out loud. But then there's that nagging worry again – Lucas had said that he loved her so easily. But Lucas had probably always had a crush on Peyton and look where that had landed _her_.

Apparently eight letters and three syllables are easier said than done. The boy had handed out 'I love yous' like newspapers. She's surprised he didn't stand on corners waving a hand in the air and announcing the sale price on his precious three little words.

Why did Rachel and Owen make it all look so damn easy when the reality is that it's all just one huge _lie_. Brooke is almost certain that true love does not exist. There is lust and like and even on occasion temporary infatuation.

"Do you think they'll stay together?" she asks just to make sure and licks the sugary drink off her lips before taking another sip.

"Who? Rachel and O?"

He sounds surprised at her question and she realizes that she probably sounded more worried than she had meant to.

"Yeah."

"_Pleease…_" he mocks, but his eyes are gentle. "Those two will never break up. They need each other like fish need water. Owen will never find a girl that challenges him like that insane redhead does, and even if that wasn't the case…" his smile turns a little crooked, "he's damn near stupid for her body."

From the living room she can hear Rachel yell something that sounds suspiciously much like "I hate you" and she has to laugh, because even though she's sure that Owen is on the receiving end of that insult, Chase's statement feels reassuring.

Owen is _not_ like Lucas.

More specifically; Owen and Rachel are _not_ like herself and Luke.

The alcohol from the drink warms her throat and she pounders Chase's last sentence. The skater-boy is right and even though he didn't say what she's thinking in so many words, it's still clear.

Owen loves Rachel for _who she is_.

"So, _Chase_…" she smirks and slams the rest of the drink down in one gulp. "Are you a real bartender or is it just a hobby?"

"It's good, huh?"

The flirty smile he gives her is cute as hell and she laughs when she nods. She feels a lot better, so good actually that it's no longer impossible that she might even have fun tonight.

"It's the best effing Caipirinha I've ever had."

He looks proud and while he starts to make her another one, she can literally feel the tension leave her shoulders. Fuck this whole 'Miss Congeniality'-thing that she's been pulling lately. Screw being well behaved and sober and _mature_.

It's not _her_.

She wants to get wasted, she wants to forget about the last week— or why not the last months all together— and she wants to flirt and have fun. So she gratefully accepts the new drink from the boy that seems to hold surprising wisdom. And she even surprises herself when her mouth unconsciously opens and she finds herself saying;

"So, Chase… You wanna dance?"

---x---

She's kind of been looking for Brooke for the last ten minutes. Not searching really, more like keeping an eye out, because she does feel a little bad for dumping Brooke on Chase when her friend is obviously still so vulnerable.

The brunette isn't moping quite as much as she had the first couple of days—actually, after she got back from Duke yesterday, Brooke had been a lot more 'normal.' Rachel guesses that something had gone down while she was staying over with Owen because now her friend seems strangely nonchalant instead of morose. Almost as if she doesn't care about the whole thing that went down with Lucas and Peyton.

She wants Brooke to snap out of the whole pity-party thing of course, that was after all why she brought her here tonight, but she doesn't want the brunette to become cynical and coldhearted either.

She knows how tough that outlook on life can be. She has firsthand experience.

Charles and Junior are laughing over by the air-hockey table and in the corner of her eye she spots Owen joining them. Again she wonders why the hell he's being so distant tonight. He's been far off in thought ever since they arrived at campus and she can't pinpoint the reason.

He's not avoiding her, neither does he seem mad at her. But he's just not 'there.'

He didn't even blow up when she tried arguing with him, just kissed her forehead and looked at her as if saying '_not tonight, please?_' and eventually she had given up and left him with his beer on the patio while he was busy texting on his cell phone.

"Boys…" she mutters and shakes her head. And people said that _girls_ were hard to understand? Fat chance.

The music is loud—some rap song playing, probably courtesy of Tyler—and she scans the room for any sign of Brooke. When she finally sees her, she smiles contently. Brooke is dancing with Chase, her head thrown back in laughter, and Chase keeps doing strange eighty's dance-moves to keep that pearly laughter coming.

Chase is almost as bad of a dancer as Tyler is an amazing one, and Rachel can't help but to join in on the laughter at the ridiculous sight. It's clear however that she doesn't need to interfere. Brooke is having fun. So instead she steers towards the keg to refill her red plastic cup.

"Let me refill that for you, honey…" someone offers beside her and she shrugs and hands the cup over to a tall well-built guy with a short Mohawk-like haircut.

He smirks, looking cocky and awfully sure of himself, and his eyes travel from her face down to her stiletto boots and then slowly up again.

"Digging the red hair," he says almost as if she's standing there just waiting for his approval, his right brow even arches up a bit. "I bet you're a tiger behind closed doors, ain't you?"

She snorts, amused. He _must _be from another fraternity or probably even a different college—because frankly, no one at Duke would ever have the guts to stare at her the way this guy currently is. Owen might still be just a Sophomore, but he's respected—and feared.

Everyone knows that the quarterback she's dating would _kill_ anyone that made a move on her. No one has really tried since she made out with Chris Carmichael last year after she and Owen had fought over… uh… she can't even remember what about. They've had a lot of heated fights in the past. Too many to count and too stupid to remember.

"Thanks," she mutters and grabs the filled cup that Mohawk-boy hands her before turning to walk over to Owen and the boys. But a hand on her shoulder stops her.

"Hey, whoa—wait up. What's your hurry, huh? There a fire I don't know about… well," again with that cocky smirk, "besides the one in the twinkle of your eye for me."

Boys are obviously not just hard to understand. Some are also _retarded_.

"Wow," she scoffs, "you must be suicidal."

"Nah, I just seize the moment. I see what I want and I go for it," he grins and lets his eyes travel down her figure again and bites his full bottom lip, "and I _definitely_ want some of that…"

"Do girls actually fall for that bullshit anymore?" her nose wrinkles in a grimace.

"Hot moms sure do," he grins and takes a step towards her, "come on, sugar. Show me if a tiger can out do a cougar."

"Listen, _Mohawk-Mike_," she says in a sugary voice. "I don't respond well to corny pet-names like 'honey' or 'sugar' so just cut that shit out, will you?" her eyebrow lifts into a perfect arc and she smiles inwardly as his smirk turns a lot more insecure.

"So what do you want me to call you?" he tries.

This time she chuckles out loud.

"You're not currently enrolled here at Duke, are you?"

She sips her beer while watching him half-curiously. If he says yes, then he's a dumbass with a death-wish. If he says no, then he'll definitely learn before the night is over that flirting with the girlfriends of the Sigma Nu guys will usually earn you a fist in the face. And if that's the case, she might as well give him her name as a conciliation price.

"I… uh… I'm transferring here."

"Really? Pledging Sigma Nu?"

"Uh-huh," the cocky grin is back on his face, "why? You like frat-guys?"

She giggles innocently and does that flutter with her lashes that Brooke has perfected. Poor schmuck. If Owen sees this dude so close to her face, he won't be pledging any fraternity at all.

"I _love_ frat-boys," she offers, underlining the word 'love' in a way that almost surprises herself, and then she leaves him standing with his hand stretched out like an idiot.

She loves frat-boys, one a lot more than the rest of them, and she doesn't feel like standing around chatting with this moron anymore , even though he's kinda cute.

"Hey, you never told me your name," he calls after her and she sways her hips a little extra just for kicks.

"What's yours?" she offers over her shoulder.

"Puck."

Chuckling at the ridiculous nickname, she sends him a smile and then she keeps walking.

"Have a nice night, _Puck_."

---x---

His footsteps are a little wobbly, his knees a bit shaky and his vision blurry—but, Nathan Scott can swear that he is definitely _not_ drunk. Just a little buzzed. Okay, _very _buzzed, but he's not drunk. Not yet.

The Sigma Nu house is having a kegger tonight but since he promised Rachel to give Brooke some space he can't go there. Which meant that Owens and Tyler's company were out of the question. And he just couldn't stick around in Tree Hill since Vegas spent the night at some girl's house and Tim even went as far as to tell Nathan he had a paper due that Monday and had to stay in. What a loser.

He lifts the small bottle of JD upwards to his lips and takes a healthy swallow. It washes down his throat and leaves a very bitter aftertaste in its wake. More sluggish steps across mildly damp grass nearly causes Nathan to slip a few times before he finally makes it to Duke's Bell Tower Residence Hall.

It's twenty minutes past midnight and he's not sure why he drove up to Duke since he can't hang out at Sigma Nu. Maybe it had been out of pure habit? Maybe he just wanted to—

Nah, _whatever_…

Minutes later he scuffles his way down a long narrow hall and stops in front of a door with pink and red glitter stickers. A cork board hangs lull and vacant but for the one green neon flyer advertising a '_fuller bust in no less than five days!'_ He blinks at it and chugs more JD before wiping the back of his sleeve over his mouth then knocks on the door with the same hand.

He prepares himself for groveling. Brenna is sure to be upset that he's ignored her for the past few weeks but tonight he wants to get laid and Brenna is a sure thing. No way will she turn him down, least she be black balled from the Sigma Nu house. Some chicks were dumb like that.

But it's not Brenna who answers the door. Instead it's a bored looking little blonde with her hair pulled back into a messy bun, loose fitting light gray sweats and thin rimmed glasses resting on her nose. She blinks behind the glass frames over her tired blue eyes and he can almost see his reflection in them.

"Boy are you a sight for sore eyes," Elle Bishop dares to snort in place of a polite greeting.

"You're a lot hotter when you keep your mouth closed you know," Nathan mutters. "Is Brenna here?"

Her eyes flick over his appearance and pause at the alcohol in his hand, "Are you _trying_ to get me kicked out of here?" she hisses and yanks him inside the dorm and slams the door shut behind him.

"Hey, hey," Nathan chuckles, "damn girl, all you had to do was invite me in. I would have come willingly."

"You're drunk," she growls.

"No," he begins to correct her, "I'm _buzzed_, there's a difference. Google it."

Her arms clamp down over her chest, "As you can see, Brenna isn't here. Now please hide that bottle and get the hell out."

"Hey, _you're_ the one who pulled me inside. Don't be a tease, Elle."

"Fuck you, _Nathan_," she shrieks.

"He has a girlfriend you know," he blurts out suddenly.

"What?" Elle blinks in confusion.

"Owen," he feels the need to clarify, "he has a girlfriend and she's _really_ not someone you want to fuck with."

"Get out, Nathan," Elle grinds out through gritted teeth.

But his feet are planted firmly on the ground, "We got enough shit going on without the addition of you into the mix. So why don't you do us all a favor and subtract yourself from the equation, alright?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," her lips press into a thin straight line, "you're drunk and you're not making any sense. Please leave my dorm room."

Nathan sets his nearly finished bottle down onto a table top and sighs, "I already told you, I'm not drunk. I'm buzzed, that's all."

"Whatever you are, I really don't give a shit. Brenna isn't here, so go find yourself some other girl to distract yourself from whatever issues you're currently trying to avoid." Her tiny hands clench down at her sides.

"Oh, but I already did," he laughs arrogantly, "come on, Elle… _distract me_," he teases and takes a step towards her. "Better me than Owen, at least for your sake it is," he snorts. "Rachel would use you as a chew toy, and Brooke?" he whistles, "She'd just destroy you."

"There is _nothing_ going on between me and Owen," she replies staring directly into his clouded eyes. "Now do _yourself_ a favor and get the hell out of my room. Or else I'll call campus security and they will escort you to the nearest holding cell. Whichever you like."

The options just don't compute. "Then why were you at the house wearing Owen's sweater that day you took off looking guilty?" he continues.

"Does the term 'get out' mean nothing to you?" she scoffs in disbelief.

Nathan rubs a heavy hand over his face, "Whatever you say, Elle. Just know that the facts are against you right now."

"What facts? I haven't done anything wrong. If you're so damn interested to know then why don't you ask Owen?" she snaps.

"Because I'm asking… _you_," he pokes her collar bone gently.

She stops and stares at him for a few tantalizing seconds. She looks so fragile beneath all that thick cotton, she almost drowns in it. But the stern placement of her jaw line gives way to even more powerful blue eyes. He almost takes a step back from the furious look over her face. Then suddenly it melts away into almost nothing.

It's obvious that the girl has one hell of a poker-face.

He frowns and pulls a hand through his hair. If Owen slept with Elle, then the shit is going to hit the fan so hard that the splatter will hit them all. Not just Owen and the girl in front of him. But also Rachel, Brooke and maybe himself.

If Owen is two-timing Raye, then Lucas is going to look like an angel in comparison.

Her arms cross again over her chest, but this time they lay loose one over the other, "You really want to know what's going on?" she asks him calmly.

He gives a curt nod and as she moves in closer and pulls him down by his collar. Her head leans towards him slowly and he gulps anxiously. Then she licks her lips and her mouth moves in closer, and right when he thinks she's going to kiss him she veers to the left and stops at his ear.

"The truth would kill your buzz."

---x---

After drink number five—or is it six?—she's actually starting to feel like herself again. Like the Brooke that likes being the center of attention on the dance floor and that can turn the heads of a whole room full of guys just by tilting her head a little to the side. Like her first meeting with Tyler when she lured him around the dance floor and left his head spinning.

"Make me another drink?" she asks with her arms wrapped around Chase's neck. He smells good, feels strong, making her guess that there's a great body underneath his skater-style clothes. And when his hand slides down her back to push her grinding body closer to his, she actually shivers. In a good way.

"What kind of drink?" he says and his brown eyes don't stray from hers. "Grey Goose? Beer? Maybe some water?"

He gives her the last suggestion with a softer voice and she smirks. "Don't baby me, Chase. I'm not a little kid," with a slow move she slides down his body and then up again. "What do you say we go do a couple of shots, then you make me another Caipirinha…"

"Yeah?" Chase mumbles and when she brushes her lips towards his in an almost kiss, then he's the one shivering.

"Yeah," she nods, "and then we'll go up to your room…"

She grabs his hand and pulls him towards the kitchen and he watches half-dazed as Brooke pours vodka in six shot-glasses. She pushes three of them towards him and he figures that having these shots after all the previous drinks is a bad idea— especially for the petite girl in his arms who's already way past tipsy—but the brunette friend of Rachel's is just way too hot to turn down and obviously too stubborn to ever take no for an answer. So with a smile he clinks the first one towards one of hers and downs it. Then the second and the third.

As he starts making her the drink she requested she sneaks a hand in under his t-shirt and her breath is hot in his ear when she whispers, "I'm gonna go upstairs. Meet me in your room?"

He nods and her breath tickles the side of his neck when she kisses his jaw. He watches her saunter out of the room and the way she's swaying her hips tells him that he's probably going to have to take a punch in the face by Owen. He won't be taking advantage of her of course. She's drunk and probably pretty vulnerable too, seeing as she clearly has a broken heart. But he's a guy and he can't help it that he wants to take care of her.

He'll put a stop to it if she tries to take it any further than making out.

Yeah right. _That'll_ be easy.

---x---

"What's wrong with you tonight?" she asks and retracts backwards, leaving Owen to lean against the hallway wall with a confused look on his face. "You're totally spaced out. Are you even interested in kissing me?"

He groans tiredly and reaches for her wrist but Rachel pushes his hand away impatiently and shakes her head. She's tired of his absent-minded mood and she craves tequila.

If he wants to be a boring asshat, then _fine_ – she'll just go get drunk with Brooke.

"Raye," he mutters and this time he catches her arm and pulls her back in. "I'm sorry, okay? I just have stuff on my mind."

_D__ouche. _

"Whatever," she scoffs and tries to pull her hand from his grip. But he's stronger. Like always. And when she fights his hold, he just pulls her closer.

"What was that?" he chides her jokingly and the absent demeanor lifts a little from his features.

"What_ever_!" she says more clearly and brings out the pout. At which he actually chuckles.

"Don't _whatever_ me. I'll teach you some manners, girl. Bend you over my lap and–"

She laughs and finally manages to swat his hands away. She'll get him back later for being a boring grouch.

"It's okay," she offers, because it's probably time to go check where Brooke's run off to again. Last time she checked up on her friend was about an hour ago and Brooke had still been hanging out with Chase, actually getting quite tipsy. Which is good, but a wasted Brooke might possibly end up a disaster. "I'm gonna go find B and see if she's alright. You wanna meet me in your room for a quicky later?"

She adds a smirk and a wink and the corners of Owens mouth pulls up into a dirty smile. "You know it, baby," he smirks. "I just have to make a call. Fifteen minutes?"

When she shrugs nonchalantly, he smacks her ass and she willingly takes a step forward to close the distance between them enough for a kiss.

She _hates_ that he turns her on even when he's a complete caveman.

"Fine," she grumbles, "fifteen minutes. Now go make that fucking call."

"Yes, m'am."

She watches him go and then she elbows her way over to Tyler who's acting as self-proclaimed DJ over by the entertainment center. But she's intercepted halfway, by the guy with the Mohawk from earlier.

What was his name again?

"Hey sexy," he says in a low voice and blocks her path with his arm. "I've been looking for you. You wanna go grab some air?"

"No thanks, Buck. I'm busy."

She fake-smiles and tries to slip under his arm because his low voice is a little too alluring. She's intoxicated and her mind is full of what she wants to do with Owen, so being close to cute flirty guys is not a good pastime. But he follows her.

"_Puck_," he reminds her, again with that self-assured smirk. "I bet I have a better offer than whatever you're running off to. How about we grab a couple of beers and head over to your dorm."

"My _what_?"

She looks at him confused until she realizes that he thinks that she's a college student and she chuckles at that. Stupid guy. Hot, but apparently not that bright.

"Your dorm," he says with a wider grin. "You and me, a bed, less clothes…"

"Get a grip, dude," she laughs, partly because it's never gonna happen, and partly because if she didn't have Owen, she probably wouldn't be as quick to turn the guy down. He's just the type of cocky asshole that she'd go for in the past. Because even though the pickup-line is ridiculous, the smirk on his face tells her that he could probably back up that offer with a solid deal. A good one too.

Being monogamous is tough.

"Relax, girl," he smiles, "I'm kidding. Just to talk. Get to know each other?"

"I can't," she answers, this time with a more genuine smile in return. "You're cute though. Really."

"Your loss," he shrugs and the crooked grin stays but he's actually looking disappointed. And this time when she tries to duck under his arm, he lets her.

She shouldn't be so happy to get away though because she bumps right into Tyler's chest.

"My, my, my…" Tyler snickers, "Looks like Raye's got a little fan."

"Huh?"

She's still half-glancing at the guy's—Puck's—firm behind as he walks towards the kitchen, and Tyler pokes her in the side.

"Don't let O see you drooling," he teases, "he'll kick the poor kid's ass."

Embarrassed, her eyes snap up to meet Ty's and she scowls.

"Shut up, Gage! I'm gonna tell Brooke that you fantasize about her in the shower."

"I do not!"

Tyler looks horrified and she basks in the success of pushing the conversation over to Tyler instead of on herself. Because Owen's wingman on the field is right. Owen would bruise Puck badly.

"Who'd you think Brooke would believe?" she chuckles.

And then she runs as fast as she can in heels, because Tyler looks about ready to kill her.

---x---

Chase chuckles to himself while crushing more ice and making small talk with Owens teammate Brent. Then he gets sidetracked by a dude from his old Spanish class but after about twenty minutes he finally takes the glasses with him and heads towards his room. Although when he reaches the upstairs landing, Tyler Gage is standing leaned against his closed door, arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey Tyler," he smiles and walks past the guy on the way to his own room. "Bored with the party already?"

"Nah, but you and me are gonna have a chat. Downstairs."

Chase looks at the drinks in his hands and towards the closed door to his room. "Uhm, I'm kinda busy right now…"

"I can imagine," Tyler smirks, "but you're going to wanna hear me out, kay? Brookie-cookie can wait ten minutes," with a wider grin Tyler takes one of the drinks and sips it. "Nice Caipirinah dude. Good job."

"How'd you know that–"

"That you were gonna hook up with Davis? Man, _please_."

Tyler walks down the stairs again and Chase finds himself following. He slumps down across from Ty in the living room couch and Tyler leans forward.

"Listen," he says, "I know that you and O are old pals and shit, but see, Brooke is a friend of mine. And if Owen wasn't busy with trying to get back into Raye's good graces, then he'd be the one telling you that Brooke Davis is off limits. Actually I'm a little surprised that he didn't lay that lecture on you beforehand."

Chase sighs and puts his drink down on the table.

"I'm not going to go all cave man and take advantage of a drunk high school girl, Tyler," his tone implies that he doesn't care for a lecture of any kind.

"No?" Tyler's eyebrow shoots up in question. "So why then did Brooke come ask me what bedroom is yours?"

When Chase sports a look of embarrassment, Tyler starts giving him the whole lecture that Owen usually gives about not going near Brooke Davis. But before he gets to finish, Owen suddenly comes and joins them on the couch.

"What're you boys talking 'bout?" he says and grabs a handful of Doritos from a bowl on the table.

"About B," Tyler answers smoothly and smirks in Chase's direction. "I've been telling Adams here how Brooke is enrolled in the Owen Morello Protection program."

"Oh," Owen chuckles. "Thanks Ty, but those rules don't apply to Chase. My man Chase is a 'good guy' and he's only looking out for Brooke."

"But—" Tyler's jaw drops in shock. "What? You're saying that—why is he allowed to—"

Owen shakes his head. "Gage, be serious. You're a manwhore. Chase would never sleep with Brooke at a party. He's not like that."

"_Really_?"

Owen thinks that the pout on Tyler's face would be funny if it weren't for the fact that he's just spotted Brooke coming down the stairs. Wearing nothing but what appears to be one of Tyler's football jerseys.

"Chase?" she calls in a voice that can only be described as slurry and inebriated. "Where'd you go? I thought that you were gonna come meet me in your room?" she spots Tyler and frowns, "And why the hell are you cock-blocking me, Ty?"

"Why the hell is she wearing your shirt?" Owen mutters in Tyler's direction.

"See, I found this young lady looking for Chase's bedroom in way too little clothes, so I handed her a shirt and let her sleep it off in the _safe_ environment of _my_ room."

"Safe, my _ass_…"

With a deep sigh Owen gets up from the couch and he grabs Brooke around the waist just as she's about to stumble into Chase's lap. Chase looks guilty and Owen frowns in his direction.

"Nice, Chase," he mutters sarcastically. "_Real_ nice. Good job."

Owen looks between Chase and Tyler who both shrug. Then O mumbles, "Okay, so on second thought, rules apply to you too, Adams. And this young lady is going back to bed," he grabs the still pouting Brooke around the waist and lifts her up, "In my room. With _Rachel_."

---x---

"Maybe you should have let her do whatever she wanted?" Rachel chuckles as she walks into the bathroom where Owen is currently brushing his teeth. "A little 'no strings attached' sex with Adams wouldn't have killed her, you know."

Her boyfriend grunts something inaudible and spits toothpaste in the bathroom sink before rinsing his mouth. She knows that he's annoyed with Chase but it's ridiculous. Sometimes his big-brother-like protectiveness gets a little out of hand and she has to remind him that neither she, nor Brooke, are helpless.

After all, if Brooke hadn't hooked up with Owen's friend Kellan, a year and a half ago, she would never have met Owen. And Kellan is the same age as Chase and his reputation had been way worse than even Tyler's.

"No, _really_, Owen. Chase is nice. It might have been good for her."

She's leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom and his eyes travel her body slowly. She's just wearing panties and a spaghetti strapped top because she had been on her way to bed when Owen came in with her drunken friend in tow. And usually there'd be a sexy smirk on his face by now. Usually he'd already be planning how to get her naked even though Brooke is snoring in his bed. But tonight he looks at her differently.

"You know what _I_ think, Raye?" he mumbles and finally pulls her close to him by the fabric of her top. "I think that Brooke is angry and sad and confused and plain freaking vulnerable. And I think that however _nice_ Chase is, she might regret it in the morning and little B doesn't need more shit to regret right now."

He looks tired and the worried creases on his forehead seem a little out of place. It's as if he's got more on his mind than what he's letting her in on.

"Hey," she says and presses up closer to his chest, "she'll be okay. Lucas is a loser and she's better off without him." She's not sure that's true but she wants it to be. Brooke is tough as nails and this will all blow over.

"I just don't want her to end up in an even more shitty situation," Owen mutters and glances over her shoulder in through the bedroom door. "A lot of crap that you haven't planned for can happen, especially when you're upset or weak," he frowns. "I just don't want anyone to take advantage of that weakness."

He's being cryptic and emo and she wonders what the fuck is up. When she thinks about it, it's not only tonight that he's been weird. For the last couple of weeks he's been easily distracted and a little 'spacey' and now that Lucas and Peyton's dirty laundry is hung out to dry, Rachel has time to realize that her boyfriend is acting very out of character.

"Where's the hot, smirking quarterback I usually sleep around with?" she jokes to lighten the mood. "And who is this brooding mother hen?"

At least now he smiles and his hands come to rest on her hips to hold her close to him.

"Excuse me for caring about the kiddo," he chuckles. "Is it so bad if she stays away from boys for a little bit, babe?"

"Well that's a little late since she's gotten down and dirty with Nathan already. Didn't he tell you?"

It might not be what she would have recommended but hey, who is she to judge? She herself has had countless hook-ups in the past when she was pissed at Owen. It's not like she doesn't understand that sex can be used as both revenge and pain-relief.

"When?" Owen asks, sounding a little annoyed.

"The same night she found out about Lucas and Peyton," she shrugs. "They got drunk and screwed each other's brains out, just like old times."

"Ah, _man_! Are you freaking kidding me right now?"

Now she is the one frowning because out of all people she would have thought that Owen would be pleased that it had been Nate. Even though she personally thinks that Nathan is often an immature little prick, Owen is very fond of the guy. Despite the three year age difference, Owen and Nathan are friends.

"At least tell me they used protection," Owen mutters in a sarcastic tone and she looks at him, feeling confused.

"What the hell kind of question is that?" she asks, "Owen, what is _wrong_ with you tonight?"

But her boyfriend just groans and rubs a hand over his face. His cell phone beeps in his pocket but he doesn't move to answer it.

"Sorry," he mutters, "I'm just fed up with all the drama." He grabs her hand and leads her towards the bed where Brooke's still snoring gently. "Go to bed, baby. I'm just gonna go down to the boys for a bit."

He folds the sheets back, making her feel like a kid, and then he waits as she climbs in next to Brooke's sleeping form.

"It's almost two o'clock in the morning, Owen," she sighs. "Can't you talk to Ty and Chase tomorrow?"

But he just kisses her.

"I love you, Raye. I'll be back in a little bit."

And then he leaves.

---x---

* * *

.

**AN**: For those of you that answered last chapter's question, the results are in.  
Fifteen readers wanted to kill Lucas, one chose to marry him and one wanted to fuck him. Owen got eight marriage proposals and seven fuck-buddies – and for a 'new' character, he did good and only got killed twice. The big shocker however is our stud Nathan who scored ten marriages and ten sexual encounters without getting killed once. Good job, Nate!

Our answers? We'd both marry Owen, fuck Nathan and kill Lucas. At least at this point… However, it's a long story. Who knows what'll happen later, right?

For this chapter we wonder: **Did you ever go to a college party while you were still in High school?**

**Big thanks** goes out to all of you that read and even more so to those of you who review.

Extra special thanks this chapter goes to Love's Crash Test Dummy, Brooke Fan, xCailinNollaigx, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz, Yana, Lizzy and albluvscbg. Oh, and P0line? Welcome back!

'Til next time…

/E&L


	28. Grounds For Divorce

**AN: **The wait for this chapter has been way too long, we are more than aware. And we're thankful for the PM's asking for an update, just as we're thankful to those of you that have patiently waited for it. The short story; real life got in the way for both of us and this chapter had to be rewritten twice. Sometimes it sucks that we're both realists and have this uncontrollable urge to make actions and reactions realistic. Then at the last minute, ff decided to give us grief and wouldn't upload our chapter for another couple of days. But at least we give personal thanks at the end. Love/E&L

Ps. This chapter starts pretty much just after where the last one ended.

---x---

** Part 2: **_**Something I Can Never Have**_

---x---

**Chapter 27 – Grounds For Divorce**

**Junior Year**

"_I know that you believe you understand what you think I said, but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant." - _Robert McCloskey

---x---

_**March 17**__**th**_

"_Do you want me to come over or not, Elle?"_

The words play over and over inside her head like a record track set on repeat. She still can't quite grasp the reality of what she'd heard. And even after hearing the words from his lips it still took her a few minutes to actually process them. Shock had morphed into anger faster than it took for the clench in her stomach to reach its claws around her heart.

"_Nah, it's cool. She's passed out next to Brooke in the bed, trust me when I say she's done for the night…"_

There's a rumbling inside of her. She can't quite figure out where it's coming from or where it's headed but the build-up has her nearly jumping out of her skin. She can't wake Brooke up and even if she could, she's not sure she wants to. So barefoot and half dressed she slips out of Owens bedroom to search among the crowd downstairs.

She doesn't see her boyfriend, but that's not who she's looking for.

"_No one will even know that I'm gone. If you need me then say the word and I'm there.__ You know that."_

Rachel has one thought inside her head. One single, burning thought.

_Get even._

Nothing else matters as she scans the people in the living room and she hopes to God that she won't run into Tyler or Chase or any other of Owens asshole friends before she finds what she's looking for. Because if someone comes in her way, or says as much as one word to her right now, she will punch the motherfucker's lights out.

Her mind is set, she just has to find the right person…

And then she sees him.

He's leaning towards the wall straight ahead. The guy – the one with the Mohawk. And when she determinately starts walking towards him, he sips his beer and watches her with a curious look on his face.

Her heart slams against her ribcage, her pulse ringing loudly in her ears, and she bites the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood. But on the surface, she stays calm. Keeps the smirk in place and remembers to sway her hips as if she's not crossing the living room of her boyfriend's fraternity house in the middle of a still ongoing party, barefoot and wearing nothing but her miniscule makeshift PJ's.

As if she's not fucking _furious_ and on the verge of wanting to scream.

_Get. Even._

"Hey lover-boy. Want some company?"

Her voice sounds foreign, even to herself, and the guy – Puck, was it? – raises an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth turn upwards in a cocky smirk.

"Took you long enough. I thought you and that other chick left already. But hey," he winks at her, "My offer still stands if you wanna get out of here."

She quirks her own eyebrow to mimic his and runs a hand through her red hair before giving him an appropriate response. "Why, you missed me? That's cute."

He's hot and she's furious. That in itself is a good enough combination. But there are other reasons to why she went looking for this particular boy. One; He seems to have a big enough ego for this to actually work without him asking too many questions, and two; the way he acted earlier tells her that he has balls. Either that, or he's even more stupid than he acts.

She takes a step closer, runs her fingertip down his pectorals lazily, and his smirk turns into exactly the kind of goofy smile that tells her that he's also drunk enough. Which is a bonus. Because if he's not, he'll never go for this. Unless the guy is insane of course…

"I like the new outfit," he chuckles appreciatively, "_Damn_, mama… Those legs are just…"

He bites his lip and his free hand snakes around her waist. A quick glance over her shoulder tells her that Chase is still occupied in the kitchen and there's no trace of Tyler, so she reaches up and slides her arms around the guy's neck. Rakes her fingernails up through the Mohawk at the back of his head and brings his face down to hers.

"You talk too much," she mutters, close to his face, before closing the distance to his lips.

_Fuck you, Owen Morello._

---x---

Owen sighs and slips his cell phone back into his pocket. It's 2:30 in the morning but the music from inside the house is still loud and he figures that it'll be at least another hour before the last people decide to leave. Fucking party animals.

After this freakishly long day he's _dying_ to get some sleep, but since both little B and his girlfriend are currently occupying his bed upstairs, he's not really sure how that will work out. And it's nights like this that he really misses when Brooke would bunk with Nathan in the empty room next to Tyler's. When he didn't have to babysit her broken heart and protect her damn 'virtue' like some overprotective big brother. He has four sisters after all, and that right there is already three too many.

But it's not like he has a choice, because now Chase has that empty room which means that he _can't _dumb Brookie in there. She's way too drunk for that and Chase has obviously decided to reach puberty while in the jungle.

He mutters out a string of curses and pulls the backdoor open, mentally preparing himself to rejoin the sea of drunken fools inside. Lately it's been hard to get alone time with Raye and he knows that he has some major sucking up to do. He's been way too absentminded and he's had to cancel plans with her at least three times during the past two weeks. But other stuff has just been… _complicated_. She hasn't complained before tonight–probably because she's been busy looking out for Brooke– but his girlfriend is more observant than a whole damn section of the FBI combined and he knows that he was tethering the edge earlier up in his room. If he keeps ducking dates with her, she's going to start wondering what the hell he's up to.

The living room is a fucking mess of course. Red plastic cups, beer cans and random trash everywhere, and some dumb-ass has managed to spill a whole bag of Doritos on the couch. He makes a disgusted face and turns just in time to grab one of the cheerleaders before she topples over.

"Hi Owen," she giggles in a slurry voice, "Where've _you_ been all night?"

"Jeezus…" He sighs and steadies her on her feet. "Gavin! Where the fuck are you? Your chick is piss-drunk out here!" With a better grip around the girl's arm, he decides that it's probably easier to go and dump her with the guy she came with and then head to the kitchen and grab another beer with his frat-brothers until this party is over.

But he doesn't get that far.

He doesn't even come as far as two fucking feet.

Because that's when he sees Rachel and less than half a second later?

He explodes.

---x---

His lips are different from Owen's. They're bigger, and his kisses are a lot sloppier, but it still feels good. It gives her an outlet for her anger and after the initial moment of surprise, he more than willingly kisses her back just as fiercely. The taste of toothpaste in her mouth mixes with the alcohol in his and even though the music drowns the sound, she can feel the vibration of his satisfied moan.

In her peripheral vision she sees the empty plastic cup drop from his hand to the floor and then, without hesitation, he fists her hair as he pushes her closer to him.

_So this is what it feels like_, she thinks and her right hand unconsciously makes its way down his back to rest on his ass. _This is what it feels like to kiss someone else_.

It's been so long that she hardly remembers how it used to be before Duke's starting quarterback became her only exclusive hook-up, but she pushes those thoughts away, instead concentrating on her anger and on revenge. And just like the mix of minty toothpaste and beer, revenge tastes both sweet and bitter.

"This- is… what- I'm- talk… ing …about," Puck gets out against her lips, "Before, you wouldn't… even tell me… your name. And now you –"

"Shut up," she mumbles and presses herself closer to him. She doesn't want him to talk, can't he understand that? She just wants him to keep kissing her, because while doing _this_ she can push back the nagging guilt that tries to grab hold on her insides. If Owen can cheat on her, then right the fuck back at him. She'll one-up him this way, do it right in front of all his fucking friends so that he'll be sure to hear about it. She knows that the moment one of Owens boys notices what she's up to, her little adventure will be over.

And as Puck turns their positions around –so that she is the one with her back pressed against the wall– and his hands travel up her naked thighs, over the barely there shorts, and starts to push her tiny tank top up her waist in the process, she realizes that _that_ particular moment is bound to be sooner than later. Not even guys as drunk as the Sigma Nu inhabitants can fail to notice when a girl is practically getting naked in the middle of a still ongoing party.

"You're not wearing anything other than this?" Puck chuckles while kissing a path down her neck, as if he just realized that she's basically in her underwear. "Babe, maybe we should take this somewhere a little more _private_?"

"No, this is fine," she responds and shivers as he sucks on her earlobe. It feels strange and somewhere, deep inside, a part of her wants to pull back. Away from his lips and hands. But she doesn't. Instead she fists the back of his Mohawk and brings his mouth back to hers.

And that's when it happens.

From the second that she walked up to Puck, she knew that there was a possibility of Owen still being in the house. That he might walk in and see this. And even though she's seen Owen in full blown red-colored rage before, she's not prepared for the loudness in which her name is suddenly bellowed across the room. Owen sounds like he's ready to _kill_ someone.

With a sudden jerk she's pulled to the side and she's pretty sure that it's Tyler's arms that practically lifts her away from Puck, because it's his voice that hisses, "Are you fucking _crazy_, Rachel?" into her ear. And the next second, Puck spins around and Owens fist connects with his jaw. The cracking sound coming from the punch is loud enough to be heard even over the sound of the still ongoing party.

"What the fuck are you doing, Owen!" she screams and wrenches herself out of Tyler's grip just as her cheating ass boyfriend throws the second punch, efficiently sending the startled Puck to the floor. "Are you fucking _insane_?"

Owen snaps his head around to look at her, his entire posture so furious that she almost backs into Tyler's chest.

"Am _**I**_ insane?" he barks down at her, towering over her with his 6'5 frame. "Why the hell would you ask me that when _YOU're_ obviously the one who's lost your motherfucking mind!"

The crowd in the room seem to have frozen in their positions, now looking right at them, and the whole party comes to a standstill. Someone turns off the music and she can suddenly hear her own labored breaths in the silence, but she doesn't _care_.

This was what she wanted after all. Revenge.

So why then isn't she feeling any better?

---x---

She wakes to the sound of a door slamming and then moments later she's being shaken awake by frantic hands. Hands that belong to Tyler Gage. Usually, getting manhandled in bed by someone like Tyler is cause for some serious flirting followed shortly by groping and kissing and undressing.

But in this case, it's cause for sudden panic.

"B, you _gotta_ get downstairs."

His breath smells heavily of beer and although she grimaces she still instinctively pulls him closer because, well… she's still technically drunk and when she's drunk she gets horny.

"Brooke, no," Tyler grunts and forces her lips away by jerking his head back, "you're wasted and I know that I should just let you sleep this off but Rachel needs you right now. Come on baby girl, you gotta get it together for me here. It's a fucking world war 3 downstairs!"

"Get out of my face, Ty," Brooke mutters, snuggling back into the pillows before adding a slurred, "Night, night…"

"_Brooke_," Tyler tries to shake her again and gets smacked in the face by her elbow. "Damn it, B! You almost took out my eye!"

"_Mmmph_," she mumbles with closed eyes, completely ignoring him. Somewhere in the back of her mind she's just remembered how he ruined her hook-up earlier and she's still grumpy. And through her sleep-clouded satisfaction, she can hear him sigh loudly as if giving up.

"_GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!_" Rachel's shrill voice carries up the stairs and causes Brooke to stir a bit in her sleep.

"_I'll put my hands anywhere I damn well please!" _comes Owen's loud bellow in response.

"_And what are you gonna do, Owen? Hit me? Then go ahead! HIT ME!" _Rachel shrieks, followed shortly by the sound of breaking glass.

Brooke flies up from the bed, fully awake all of a sudden. "What the fuck?" she whispers and looks over at Tyler with wide eyes. "Why the hell didn't you wake me sooner?" she scolds him. "You dumb ass, how could you let them escalate that far?"

Tyler throws his hands up in the air and rolls his eyes just as Brooke zips past him to run down the stairs. She wobbles, clearly still piss-drunk, and right then he's just glad that someone had been smart enough to dress the brunette in more than his jersey before she crashed and burned in Owens bed.

Brooke, however, wouldn't care if she was stark naked at that moment. Because as she bolts downstairs, two steps at the time even in her still buzzed state, she can hear Owen yell, "_I'm not gonna fucking hit you, Rachel! But I'm gonna KILL that mother fucker right now! Fucking LET go of me, Chase!_"

Something is _seriously_ fucked up.

She rounds the corner into the living room so fast that her naked feet almost slip on the hardwood floor and she skids into the broad back of Junior – Owens biggest linebacker – and almost falls on her ass.

"Rachel!" she shrieks, "What the hell is going on?"

The party had obviously still been in motion and a crowd of people are standing along the walls, all of them looking stunned. The house looks like a complete mess, scattered plastic cups on the floor and the lamp next to the couch is knocked over and broken.

It looks like a freaking warzone.

Her redheaded best friend and the darkhaired quarterback are facing off in the middle of the room and not even the sound of her voice makes Rachel turn.

Breathless, Brooke watches Owens face twist into a ferocious grimace and she follows the path of his gaze as his eyes flick towards the door to the kitchen. And that's when she truly realizes that this is not a usual Rachel/Owen fight.

A guy she's never seen before is propped up against the doorframe and the new-comer has a cut lip, his nose is bleeding, and his left eye is already swelling shut. Charles is holding him in place and she really hopes that Charlie won't let him up for air.

Because she's never seen Owen this pissed off.

"Rachel, I'm really trying to understand this," he hisses, again with his eyes trained on her redheaded friend, "Did he force himself on you? Because I swear to _God_, if that fucker –"

For a short moment, Brooke feels her insides turn to ice. If that is the case – if the guy with the nosebleed had done that – then it would not only explain both Rachel's trembling bottom lip and her lack of appropriate clothing, but also Owens completely out of control behavior. And if that is the case, then she's ready to help Owen out with killing 'that motherfucker' because _no one_ hurts her Rachel.

But the ice melts away the second that Rachel spits, "Go fuck yourself, Owen!" and pushes past Chase to get to where Charlie and the nosebleed-guy are standing.

She's relieved of course, but she's also feeling even more lost to what the hell it is that's going on.

"You better stay the _hell_ away from him," Owen growls darkly while following Rachel across the room. "Listen to me when I'm talking to you, damn it!" he barks louder and Brooke curses silently under her breath when Rachel spins around.

"I _hate_ you!" she shrieks. "You hear that? I fucking _HATE_ you!"

Tyler gets ready interfere, but it's _Nathan_ – suddenly charging in through the door – that grabs hold of Rachel's arm and pulls her back. "Raye! Calm down, okay? It's _not_ what it seems like."

Brooke blinks. Stares at Nathan, who looks drunk and has jeans full of grass stains, and she really wishes that she hadn't gotten so damn drunk earlier because her brain is too slow and she can't follow.

"Rachel, _seriously_! Owen didn't sleep with her," he slurs, "I'm sure that if you'd just let him expla–"

Nathan doesn't get further because there is a growling sound coming from the quarterback and Brooke blinks a second time as Owen fingers curl around Rachel's upper arm and practically drags her with him towards the stairs to the second floor.

"Rachel? Do you want me to –" she starts and follows them towards the hallway, but Owens voice is dangerously cold when he interrupts.

"_Not_ now, Brooke. This is between me and Rachel. Stay the fuck out of this!"

Hesitantly she stops because she's not sure what to do. The room is dead silent once Owen and Rachel disappear out of view and then Nathan seems to notice the bleeding guy held up by Charlie.

"Who the hell is that?" he deadpans and Brooke just turns to stare at him with her mouth open. Not until now does she realize that Nathan's whole entrance makes no sense at all.

_Owen didn't sleep with her__, _he had said to Rachel_. _What was that supposed to mean?

Owen didn't sleep with _who_?

And where had Nathan even come from? Some other party in Raleigh? Because he sure as hell wasn't here earlier.

She frowns and looks at Tyler for any information that might make this understandable but he, as well as Chase, Junior and Charles, look just as bewildered as she does. And then Charles shakes his head and she hears him mutter, "_Jesus_, Puck, are you retarded or something? I bring you to a party to make some connections and you hook up with Morello's girlfriend? He's our freaking 'head of house'. He's the fucking football captain that you're here to impress!"

The guy squints –blood still seeping from his nose – and grunts out, "Yeah? And how the fuck was I supposed to know that? It's not like you pointed the girl out to me. You just told me to stay away from Brooke and Rachel." He wipes at his nose and groans, "I tried to get the chick's name but she wouldn't _tell_ me."

When Mohawk-kid whines like that and his cut lip sticks out almost in a pout, then she actually sees the resemblance. Charles is taller and doesn't sport some ridiculous Mohawk haircut but other than that…

"You know this punk?" Tyler suddenly deadpans and Charles cringes, looking embarrassed.

"Well… yeah… he's – um, this _dimwit_ is my baby-bro."

"That's your _brother_?" Tyler blurts, looking completely bewildered, "You let your brother make out with Rachel? What the fuck, Charlie!"

And Brooke –as well as Nathan, Chase, Junior and probably everyone else still at the party– just stands there with her mouth hanging open.

What in the freaking _HELL_ is going on?

---x---

Owens grip around her wrist is tight, almost painful, as he pulls her with him up the stairs. And reaching the second floor, he rips his bedroom door open and practically pushes her into the room before slamming the door closed behind them. His whole body language screams rage but she expects as much. Owen Morello has never been good at sharing.

Jealousy is his fucking middle name.

And in normal situations his caveman behavior amuses her, honestly even turns her on. But tonight, after knowing what he did and then watching him beat up Puck, the double-standards of his actions is making her even more enraged.

_He_ started this so he should take it like a fucking man. As an earlier participant in these 'push and pull' games of theirs, he shouldn't only have known that she'd retaliate, he should've damn well expected it. Because no guy – not even the first one that she had ever proclaimed her love for – is allowed to humiliate her like this. Getting even is the only way to save face.

"Let go of me!" she hisses and rips her arm from his grip but like the stubborn asshole he is, he instantly grabs her again and spins her around to face him.

"I can't believe you!" he growls darkly. "I thought that we were _past_ this fucking shit!"

The words are full of frustration and held back anger, making his normally smooth baritone voice sound almost gritty. She glares at him venomously and this time when she pulls away from him, he doesn't follow. He just stares back at her with dark eyes and his jaw clenching in anger.

"Was Nathan right?" he hisses, "Do you think I slept with Elle? Is that it, Rachel?"

His voice is low and his hands ball into fists at his sides. There's a smudge of blood on the knuckles of his right hand and she stares at that red spot, her own arms crossed over her chest and her chin jutted out in defiance. _Of course_ he slept with the damn skank, that shit goes without saying. He's not 10 years old and it's not like he would sneak out in the middle of the night to hold the bitch's hand.

"Is that what you think?" he repeats in a grave voice.

She stays silent and defiant because why should she be forced to say it when he knows that its true. He did it, there's no need for her to have to say it out loud. Just because he's being a dick–

"_Answer_ me, for fucks sake!"

The sudden loudness in his demand is what finally makes her façade crack and she can't stop herself from yelling back at him.

"I _know_ you did! Why are you denying it, you fucking coward?!"

"Because I didn't DO anything!" he bellows back, "Jesus, Rachel! Are you being serious?! Did you just throw yourself at that guy like some fucking _tramp_ because of something you THOUGHT I did!?"

Her pulse is too loud in her ears again and she feels like spitting in his face. Or ram her fist right into it. But his 6'5 tall frame towers over her and his black eyes demands her attention.

"What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?" he growls.

"What is wrong with _me_?" her eyebrow shoots up, "What? So you get to fuck around behind my back but I don't?" she snaps, "Don't underestimate me. I'm not stupid."

He frowns, raking his fingers through his hair. And she knows the mannerism, it's his typical outlet for frustration and nervousness. Watching the emotions roll across his face, she leans against the wall and forces her lips into a smirk. Demands herself to stay cold and composed.

"_You_ hook up with 'Elle'," she air-quotes the name for emphasis and makes her voice degrading and sugary sweet, "and _I _get even. It's all about action and consequence, sweetie. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Come on, Owen, we been down this road before."

He looks like he's going to yell at her again but instead he fists his hair and clenches his eyes shut. When he looks at her again, the same eyes are almost black with anger.

"I've never hit a girl," he hisses, "but I swear to you, Raye, right now I two seconds away from slapping some damn sense into you. Because I'm so fucking _tired_ of this!"

He takes another step towards her and she can't back up more since she's already with her back against the wall. His close proximity forces her to look up at him and the way his jaw is clenched in anger, she can literally see his molars grinding against each other.

"_You're_ tired?" she gets out, and she's surprised when it suddenly comes out in a cracked voice. "I heard you, okay? I heard you on the God damn phone with her since you couldn't even wait five fucking seconds to call her after you left!" Her fists clench and she pulls in a breath, "You were right outside the door, you fucking moron! So I KNOW that you been sneaking around behind my back!"

For a second he looks stunned and a part of her inwardly gloats. _There you go_. Busted, asshole!

"So don't tell me what the fuck I can and cannot do!" she hisses out in a more controlled voice. "I'm just settling the score, Owen. If you screw me over? Then I get you right back. It's _what we do_."

He licks his lips and blinks, still just inches from her face, and she expects him to crack. To fall apart and tell he's sorry. But instead he shakes his head in disgust.

"It's not what we do, Rachel. It's what _you_ do."

His hands comes up on the wall on either side of her, locking her in, and his biceps twitch, probably under the strain of keeping himself calm. When he finally keeps talking he's so close that she can feel his breath come in small puffs across her face. Hot and ragged.

"It's funny how you choose to see things," he hisses, "because the way I see it? It's been seventeen months since I first slept with you. Almost a year and a fucking half. And I thought we were getting somewhere because for almost fifteen of those seventeen months? I haven't fucked anyone _but_ you!"

Her chest heaves with anger but something in his eyes holds her in place.

"And you're right," he grits out, "We used to play these fucked up little games. You'd flirt to make me jealous and I'd grab some girl's ass to piss you off. But that was _then_, God damn it! I haven't so much as fucking looked at another girl since I told you that I was in love with you, and that was _four damn months ago_!"

"Bullshi–"

_BAM!_

His fist slams into the wall, right beside her face, and she actually flinches. Deep inside she knows that Owen would never hurt her physically. Never _hit_ her. But then again, she's never seen him this angry. And the weirdest thing is, that on top of that rage, he also looks really disappointed. Hurt, even.

Good. That _was_ the goal, right?

"_Jesus_, Rachel! Why is it so fucking hard for you to _trust_ me?!"

She takes a shallow breath and lets it out through her nose. Then another one. Owens eyes burn into hers and she glares right back at him.

"I don't know," she spits venomously, "could it be the small fact that you're a fucking _liar_? Or maybe that you sneak out in the middle of the night to fuck others behind my back?!"

"I haven't touched Elle!"

"That you keep saying, but why the HELL should I believe you!" she shrieks, "If you weren't fucking her, then why would you bother with all this secrecy, huh? You're the one who always tells me to be honest, damn it! Well, that's rich, Owen." She deepens her voice to sound like him. "_Don't worry Elle. I can get to your dorm and back before Raye even knows I'm gone_." She slams her palms into his chest hard, pushing him backwards a step. "If that's your version of honesty? Then you can fucking go to hell!"

She breathes hard and her insides are burning with anger. Owen, however, is just standing there. And for a short second his mouth hangs open as if he can't think of anything to say, but then he clenches his jaw and his eyes narrow in anger once more.

"You done?" he asks dismissingly, "Done ranting so you can listen?"

The hint of nonchalance in his voice makes her palms tingles with the urge to slap him hard across the face but before she even realizes that her right hand has lifted and flown through the air, her wrist is stuck within the tight grip of his large fist.

"RACHEL!" he barks, "Stop it!"

A sob pushes out from her lips, a result of her anger, and she stubbornly fights to get her arm free.

"This is exactly why I _didn't_ tell you," she hears him grunt as he catches her other wrist as well and backs her into the wall again. "Elle is just a friend and I needed to help her out. I didn't tell you because I _didn't_ want to fight with you about this."

Another sob breaks free and she hates that he hears it.

"Bullshit!" she croaks out, "That is such fucking _bullshit_!"

She tries to duck out under his arm but he won't let her. She's stuck there, back in the confined space between his heaving chest and the wall, while he breathes between clenched teeth.

"She. Is. Just. A. Friend." He punctuates every word harshly. "She has a boyfriend and she has no interest in hooking up with me, okay?"

He's bordering on frustration now, she can see the telltale signs in the way he's squinting and that twitch at his jaw. "But the guy is a fucking douche-bag," he presses on, "who put her in a really shitty situation and she needed someone to look out for her. _Nothing else_."

She still wriggles to get out of his grip but Owen is prepared for her effort to knee him in the groin. With a strangled curse he manages to block the assault on his family jewels and in the process they knock over a pile of CD's to his left.

"_Calmate, chica !_" he grunts, tightening his grip again, "Can you just calm the _fuck_ down? _Mierda!_"

And she's not even sure why she fights him so hard –the nagging feeling that he's actually telling the truth is already starting to dig its claws into her– and maybe that is it? She's fighting him because right now she doesn't want to be wrong. It's a hell of a lot easier to be angry at Owen for cheating on her than to deal with the possibility that _she_ might have cheated on _him_.

"I hate you!" she spits, pushing at him again, and for a quick moment his grip loosens almost as if she's stunned him. His voice is a lot less angry after that and there's an almost desperate edge to it.

"Yeah? Well, I fucking LOVE you, Rachel. Right now I'm not even sure why, but I do. I'd never cheat on you and it _really_ fucks me up that you even think that I would."

She clenches her eyes shut on the tears that are seconds away from bursting forth. Suddenly everything hurts so much worse and she can't stand it. If he's lying, then this – him and her – is all over.

But if he's _not_ lying…

She swallows and breathes out through her nose. If he's being honest and the shit with this girl turns out to be nothing, then _she_ is the one who has cheated. For no other reason than that she's insecure. And that is worse because then Owen will leave _her_.

"I don't believe you," she breathes. "I think you're lying."

The grip on her wrists is loosening even more and then he releases her fully, leaving a stinging feeling as the blood rush back through the veins that have been cut off. She opens her eyes and he's staring at her, dark brown meeting her hazel ones as if he's waiting for a sign.

And he must be getting something because he his eyes grow even darker and he takes a step back.

"Great," he grunts and throws his hands out in defeat, "That's just fucking _great_! Apparently your trust in me is about as good as _shit_ so I guess I'm out of options then."

They silently glare at each other but her insides tighten up in something completely different from anger.

Out of options is basically the same thing as giving up.

---x---

It's almost 3am and Nathan wishes that he'd never left Tree Hill. If he'd just stayed put in that little shithole of a town tonight like he had first planned, then he wouldn't currently be scolded by a drunk Brooke Davis as if he was a disobedient little kid. And he certainly wouldn't be developing a hangover already. Hangovers were supposed to come _after_ sleep. Not before.

"I need a drink," he mutters and rubs his palm over his face. "Ty?" he calls out towards the kitchen, "you guys have any beer left?"

"Are you even listening to me, Nathan?" Brooke's raspy voice comes laced with annoyance, "Why can't you just tell me who the fuck Elle is?"

He rolls his eyes at her. Like he'd really fall for that one? "So you can go all mini-Rachel and run off to make this even worse? Uh, let me think…" he pretends to ponder it for a second, "Nope, not happening."

He'd be fucking stupid to tell her. He doesn't want her to run out in the middle of the night on a college campus, when she's far from sober and pissed off enough to not pay attention to her surroundings. Anything could happen to her.

"Nathan!"

"I'm serious, Brooke. No."

She growls and he childishly responds by making a face at her. He can't help it, this entire night just keeps bringing out his worst behavior. And it's not like he can piss her off _more_. She's already furious at him for keeping her from running after Rachel and Owen. _That_ had been a nice little tantrum if any.

And since Tyler had disappeared off with Junior to clear out the last lingering party guests before making some crappy excuse about going to find frozen peas or some shit for Charlie's brother's face, he had been left to deal with Brooke and a truckload of questions that he can't even answer. Because honestly? He doesn't really know much more than she does. And the worst part of all is that even though she's being an annoying little brat right now, he really just wants to kiss her stupid.

Damn 'Jack Daniels' for making him horny on top of everything else.

"Listen," he mutters, "_Elle_ isn't important. She's just a girl here on campus, I told you that already," he looks towards the kitchen to see if he can spot Tyler or maybe Charles. But no such luck. Obviously it takes a whole team of frat-guys to find a fucking bag of tiny-ass frozen vegetables.

"Then how did you know?" she keeps digging, "If she's just a girl that doesn't matter, and Owen didn't do anything with her? Why would you come barging in like your ass was on fire, huh?" She raises that signature eyebrow of hers. "Fucking convenient if you ask me."

He sighs in frustration and shakes his head.

"Don't tell me you're going to blame me for this too," he mutters. "Wow, you're just a whole bag of pleasantries tonight, aren't you?"

He feels like banging his head against a wall. Whatever he does lately, it's obviously the _wrong_ thing to do. Like when he 'showed' Brooke what was going on between Lucas and Peyton instead of telling her? What the hell had she expected? Couldn't she understand that he hadn't had a choice? It's not like she would've fucking believed him if he'd come straight out and told her. Or when he went over to check on her at Rachel's house the other day? He had just tried to be nice and it's not _his_ fucking fault that she looked like crap. Right?

_Obviously_ he hadn't meant it as an insult. She should know that she looks gorgeous whatever fucking state she's in. Of course he had meant it a more emotional sense –as in "you look like you're feeling shitty". It had just pissed him off that she let Lucas get to her so much. His bastard brother is a douche, plain and simple, and he had said that as well, hadn't he?

But no, Brooke McBitchy Davis, had pretty much told him to fuck off and waved him off like an annoying insect. Did she think that would fly with him, huh? _Please_, she should know better. After all, the brunette in front of him knows better than anyone how to push his damn buttons.

"Why are you always being such an asshole?" she frowns and crosses her arms over her chest, efficiently covering up the big blue number '21' on her shirt–the one he now _knows_ belongs to one Tyler Gage– and which has pissed him off in ways he doesn't even want to analyze for the last ten minutes now. "All I'm saying is that I don't understand how you could know about shit that supposedly _haven't happened_."

"Oh, _shut_ up, Davis," he groans and wishes for another version of her. It would be so nice to pull back time about nine months to when the combination of Brooke and alcohol meant amazing sex and no complications. "Just shut –"

"Okay. Time out, kids," Tyler grumbles, finally making his way over from the kitchen. "You," he says and points at Brooke, "take a breath and stop yelling at Preppy. You're only going to piss him off and I really don't want to deal with any more temperamental high schoolers tonight."

Brooke pouts but stays silent and that pushed out bottom lip teases Nathan into just wanting to bite it. He licks his own lips and smirks, only to gain a loud sigh from Tyler. "And you," he directs his gaze at him instead and shoves a cold beer towards him, "You should listen to the girl and stop being an asshole. Don't you think that _that_ is enough?"

Tyler points towards the ceiling and now that its silent they can all hear the faint sound of Rachel and Owen still yelling at each other.

He makes a face and uncaps the beer. "Yeah, fine," he mutters and takes a sip from the bottle.

"That's what I thought. Now, go kiss and make up," Tyler chuckles and pushes them both towards the back door. "Go sit outside or something. Let Owen straighten this shit out."

In the corner of his eye, Nathan can see Brooke starting to protest and he's honestly fed up with bickering so he rolls his eyes, throws an arm around her shoulders and pulls her with him. "Okay, whatever, B…" he sighs in defeat, "Come on. Let's try to shed some light on this."

---x---

He blames his father for the fact that he's a jealous bastard and that he has a horrible temper.

Because Joseph Morello–second generation Italian-American and jazz musician with ants in his pants–has a fuse that's short as fuck. And Owen knows that he sounds just like the man when he yells at Rachel loud enough for her to actually flinch back from him. It doesn't matter that Joseph left him, his mother and sisters when he only was five years old and that the man has showed up once a year since then, tops. He still clearly hears the resemblance. And it makes him _hate_ himself.

His mother, Sonya Gonzales Morello, youngest in a Mexican family of eight, would kill him if she heard him speak to a woman like he's been speaking to Rachel tonight. She'd raised him better than to behave like a idiot and he should be able to calm the fuck down. But he can't help it. Walking in and seeing his girlfriend kissing someone else just fucked him up beyond reason. And the fact that she won't believe him now drives him _insane_.

Yet when he sees Rachel clench her eyes shut to avoid more tears from falling, he feels like an asshole and he realizes that he needs to deal with one thing at the time.

"Okay, you're right," he snaps, "Just – ugh… _fuck_!"

He pushes back from the wall and gives Rachel the space that she's been fighting him for. Rubs his temples and tries to attack this from a different angle. Because she's right. He's pissed off, severely fucking angry even. But she's does have a valid point:

If he wanted her to trust him then he should have told her the truth instead of trying to cover it up.

The problem is just that 'the truth' isn't his to tell. And even so, if he told the _whole_ truth now, Rachel would probably still not believe him.

He takes a step back and shoves his hand down into his back pocket. His fingers close around his cell phone and he pulls it out reluctantly. Of course he had hoped that it wouldn't come to this but the more they yell at each other, the more he realizes that at least part of this mess is his own damn fault.

He hadn't even _tried_ trusting her.

"What are you doing?" she spits venomously as he chooses an option in his phonebook and puts the phone to his ear, waiting as the call connects. He doesn't answer her, because let's face it, he's still furious with the redhead in front of him. Instead he waits until a sleepy voice mutters something on the other end and he put the call on speaker-phone.

3:54 in the morning and he's broadcasting an innocent girl live to a pretty hostile audience. What an _awesome_ fucking friend he's turning out to be.

"Elle?" he sighs, "Listen, I'm sorry for waking you up at this hour but I need to settle something and sadly it can't be done without your help."

"_It's okay, I was awake,"_comes the blonde's voice,_ "What's going on?"_

He represses the urge to ask why the hell she'd be up at 4AM, because now is certainly not the time to sound concerned. Especially not since Rachel's whole body language has stiffened and, with arms crossed tightly over her chest, his redheaded girlfriend rolls her eyes and mouth's, "hang up that fucking phone!"

He shakes his head no and instead he runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat.

"Well, it turns out that you were right earlier… Raye is standing right next me, um… she can hear you by the way…"

"_And she's pissed off because she thinks you're being a lying bastard?"_

Elle's tired voice is dripping of 'I told you so' and he bites his teeth together hard so that he won't go off in anger at the blonde as well.

"More specifically a lying _cheating_ bastard," he grunts.

Rachel's jaw is set in a hard line and her posture is defensive. He knows that it's her self-defense mechanism setting in but it still irks him that he's standing here having to prove that he's innocent when she is the one that throws herself at guys when he turns his back for five fucking minutes.

"_You're so stupid_," Elle groans loudly, "_I TOLD you to explain this to her from the beginning! Why are you guys always so freaking dense?_" The blonde mutters something he can't hear and then there's the sound of feet padding against the floor. _Great_, now she was out of bed.

"_Can I talk to her?_"

"Uhm," he sighs inwardly, "Yeah well, as I said, she can hear you right now."

"_Okay. Did you tell her that I live with Brenna the football-whore and that I find each and every guy at your frat-house utterly disgusting? Or that none of this would even be an issue if you had just told her from the fucking beginning and stopped being such a damn self-proclaimed Mother Theresa?_"

This time he sighs out loud. "Elle, don't start. I'm in a pissy enough mood as it is. Just tell Rachel that you and I aren't fucking and that it was never about that."

How had he even thought that this would be a good idea?

"_And you think that she'd_ believe _that? Jesus, Owen! You're usually a smart guy." _A cupboard opens and closes, water runs and then there's a sound of Elle probably gulping down a glass of water.

He groans silently and he's just about to say sorry for calling when the blonde comes back on the line.

"_Rachel? Listen to me, Owen hasn't cheated on you," _she says calmly. _"He's been helping me out because I was stupid enough to get involved with a guy that isn't as mature as your boyfriend. Now, I know that you probably think I'm full of shit, but seriously? I have enough to deal with and sleeping around with a guy who has a girlfriend is not on my to-do-list. So either grow up and listen to what the guy is telling you, or be a bitch and dump him._"

He has his eyes on Rachel while Elle is speaking and when the blonde spits out the last sentence, his girlfriend's mouth falls open in shock for a second before those amber colored eyes ignite with anger.

"Elle! What the fuck?" he gasps and he's just about to undo the speaker-function on the phone, but Elle keeps talking.

"_What? If your girlfriend can't see that you're so in love with her that you're damn near pussy-whipped, then she's either blind or stupid. And since you've said that the chick is highly intelligent, then I'm betting on the first alternative. It's up to her if she trusts you, nothing I say will change that and you know it."_

Inwardly he knows that she's telling the truth. If Rachel doesn't believe him, then they'll be done after tonight. All the trust he's built will be ruined and his girlfriend is too proud to let him regain it if she deems this as him cheating on her.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration while Rachel still glares at him and Elle sighs over the phone.

"_You've been great, Owen. Really. And I owe you so much for being my friend. More than you know…" _She swallows loudly,_ "But I can manage, I've told you that, and you need to get this shit straightened out. So, that's why I'm going to hang up now. Goodnight."_

And with that, the line goes dead.

He doesn't look at Rachel for what feels like minutes because he honestly doesn't know what else there is to say. Anger over her childish fucking behavior mixes with hurt and he groans loudly, and even though he's still worried about Elle, a part of him wishes that he had never bumped into the tiny blonde that night in the drugstore.

The fucking beauty of it all? He had just made a quick stop at that store to buy condoms, before heading down to Tree Hill, since Rachel made damn sure that they _never_ slipped up in that department. And damn it if he hadn't been thankful for that lately. Yet part of him is starting to wish that he had ignored Elle that night because if he had, then none of this fucking drama would exist.

"Owen," comes Rachel's voice, hoarse from yelling at him, and he opens his eyes to look at her.

"What?" he sighs, "Seriously, _nena_, I don't know what more to say…"

"I'm still pissed at you," she stubbornly states and that beautiful chin of hers lifts with pride.

He's about to yell out in frustration, but then he stops.

Still.

She's _still_ pissed at him.

He carefully analyzes her expression and something is different. She's _still_ pissed, that much is clear, because her eyes are still full of that passionate anger and her jaw is set in a hard line. But she doesn't look as hurt. And although 'still pissed' might not mean that he's out of the doghouse, it might implicate that she at least believes that he didn't cheat on her.

At least that would be a step in the right fucking direction.

"For lying to you?" he mutters, playing it cool, but it doesn't escape him that she allows his touch as he trails his fingertips up her arm.

"Yes. And for beating up Puck. That was totally fucking unnecessary."

She glares at him but he doesn't care. The 'new' glare is one he knows and, while the image of her pressed up against another guy is still etched in his mind, he's so fucking relieved that something has shifted. After almost an hour of yelling and screaming she now meets his eyes straight on and her bottom lip has stopped trembling. Her posture is still stiff but the anger on her face is hot, not cold.

Elle must have said something that made an impact, even though he can't figure out what, and he's grateful as hell.

Why? Because he loves the vindictive redhead so damn much that it sometimes scares him.

"He deserved it," he grunts and his hand slides down to her hip. Rachel's hands twitch as if she'd been on her way to reach for him but at the last second she stops herself.

"You embarrassed the _fuck_ out of me down there, Owen."

"Yeah?" he mutters back, "You expected me to be all rainbows and fucking unicorns, huh? Because it tends to make my mood _great_ when my girlfriend starts stripping in front of strangers in my own damn house."

His fingers find the strip of bare skin between her shorts and tank top and a last surge of residue anger – or maybe a reminder of his quick temper – runs through his veins.

"What the hell were you even doing, going down into a house full of drunk guys in nothing but this?" he demands a little too harshly and pulls at the fabric of her tiny top. "You're practically _naked_!"

"Well, it's not like I dressed for the occasion!" she snaps back and once again her eyes light up with that typical Rachel-defiance. Her fiery red hair is a wild tangled mess and she angrily keeps pushing back the loose strand from her bangs that keeps falling into her face.

He groans exasperated and waves his hand pointedly at her boobs. "You couldn't even put on a bra? I can see your fucking nipples through this!"

It's not an exaggeration. Looking down, the two pebbled peaks are staring him in the face like headlights. Thank God that he had been too angry to realize just how sexy she looks in this little outfit of hers while they were still fighting downstairs. Had he seen then what he sees now, then he probably would have punched a lot more noses, just for staring at his half naked girl.

"So?" she asks defensively, "Except for Puck, no one would dare come near me even if I _had_ gone down there naked. Your ridiculous jealousy made sure of that long ago."

He scoffs. "Damn _straight_."

Still gripping her tank top, he pulls her closer to him. He's not happy with what she did tonight and the exact same possessiveness that she's talking about is stronger than ever. But he's also not about to point out to her that she's equally jealous and that it had led to some really stupid shit tonight, because he doesn't want fight with her anymore. Instead he has this stupid caveman urge to remind her that she is _his_. That he can do things to her – make her feel things – things that the kid with the ridiculous Mohawk isn't even capable of.

"Take it off," he mutters and pulls at the fabric. "It's making you smell like him."

"If anything smells around here, then it's all _you_."

God, it's like pulling teeth. It always is with this fuck-hot vixen of girl. She's like a fucking piñata full of bitchiness.

"Don't be a smartass," he grits out and breaths through his nose.

"Then don't be an asshole," she quips back.

Okay, that's enough. They're going to go back and forth all night if he doesn't put a stop to this.

With a jerk he pulls the fabric up and for a moment he hates that he's pressed so close to her because he wants to see the naked skin of her tummy and waist being revealed. The top gets stuck under her breasts but then her arms lift and he yanks it over her head and off, throwing it to the floor.

Rachel's hands finds the beltloops of his jeans and while he pulls his own shirt off, she jerks him forward, pulling his hips into her so firmly that the mere friction forces him to moan and crash his lips on hers.

The kiss that follows is rough and he fights to domineer it, but just like with everything else in their relationship, she fights back. Gives as good as she gets. And it's just the way he likes it.

Five days, three hours and some change. He hasn't gone this long without having her in a long time. Probably not since last summer when she was in France with Brooke.

"Cut it out," he growls when her teeth sink into his bottom lip but he doesn't really mean it. His hands span her slim waist, pressing her nearly naked body flush against his chest, and she moans out a heated, "Make me," into his mouth.

All the anger is gone but now he's on the verge of exploding due to a whole different reason and his hand is already undoing his belt when he grunts out his answer.

"Oh, _believe me_, baby. I will."

---x---

Slightly hazy and still stuck in a giant bubble of confusion, she manages to string together a few words that will hopefully steer her in the right direction. "So…" Brooke starts with a huge sigh and stares down the driveway of the Sigma Nu house, "I still don't get it… what the hell –"

"—started it?" Nathan fills in, simply trying to be helpful. Because the brunette looks really tired, and even in his still slightly intoxicated state, he can see that she feels even worse.

"Yeah," she mumbles and brings her knees up to her chest, hugging them tight, "it just doesn't make sense. I mean… it's all just really freaking confusing…"

He shrugs because 'confusing' is probably the understatement of the fucking year. He'd been so damn sure that Rachel and Owen were fighting over Elle when he'd barged in earlier that he had just reacted on instinct. It wasn't until afterwards –when he'd seen the guy's face that Owen had massacred– that the whole equation suddenly didn't add up. It took a jumbled explanation from Tyler before he realized that Puck, – _what the hell kind of name was that anyway? _– had taken a beating because Owen caught him kissing Raye, and that Brooke's redheaded friend probably pulled that shit to get even.

But what he still can't figure out is why. Because when he thinks about it, how could Rachel even know enough about Elle to go on a rampage? Even with Elle's side of the story he _still_ doesn't understand what had gone down between the redhead and the quarterback.

"They'll sort it out," he offers and nudges Brooke with his shoulder before taking a swig of his beer. "They always do. It's O and Raye. I mean, it's not the first time that they've gone head to head in the middle of a party."

"I know," she mumbles and looks down at her red painted toes, "but they don't fight like–" she hiccups loudly and he chuckles, "–like this, Nate. This was different."

It's silent out on the porch as he steals a glance at her while talking another sip from the Corona in his hand. She looks a hot mess; tussled hair, smudged makeup, and judging by the way she swayed when walking outside? Yup, definitely still a little drunk.

Despite the chaos that is Ms. Davis tonight, she's still a fucking goddess. Who knew damaged looked good on Brooke? It kind of annoys him a bit. Something so pretty is bound to have imperfections and he's yet to spy any of them—_ever_. He's tired and the night has been a real buzz-kill, but sitting beside her like this makes him feel intoxicated all over again. It's ridiculous. A girl –one that he's already _had_ several times– dressed in much too big sweats and with a severe case of hiccups, shouldn't affect him at all.

He _hates_ how all these fucking questions regarding Brooke always arise when he's been drinking. Apparently alcohol doesn't just make him horny. It also fucks with his mind to the point of discombobulating everything thought inside that once made sense.

"Just explain to me how you know that he didn't do anything with that chick?" she mumbles and leans back on her hands. "It could be true, you know," her face turns towards him and he continues to stare forward at the empty street in front of the house, "guys cheat all the time."

Her tone of voice changes the atmosphere around them. She shifts uncomfortably beside him unaware of how close she's scooted towards him for warmth. Involuntarily he looks down at her and knows she's lost in her own thoughts now. Since his arm is rested on the porch railing, her shift in position makes their seating arrangement feel a lot more intimate. Without thinking he rests his arm down onto her shoulders, the sudden closeness surprises him but he figures that she must be just as exhausted as he is. When her eyes close and she rests her head on his chest it confirms his thoughts.

Then he remembers what she'd just said and he shakes his head, "Not O, Brooke. He's not like that."

"How would you know?" she scoffs and shakes her own head. "Everybody lies."

He might be tired, but he's not stupid. Of course he knows where she's heading with this. Fucking _Lucas_. His dickhead of a half-brother has completely ruined his fuck-buddy. He's pretty sure that if it weren't for that bastard, Brooke would shrug at all this and say that it was just Rachel's and Owen's way of letting off steam. She is usually Owen's biggest fan.

If things were normal, Brooke would be pissed off if she knew that he had actually doubted Owen for a while himself. Now he doesn't even want to tell her that bit of information since its hard enough to convince her that his friend hasn't fucked up.

"I _know_ because Owen is nothing like your loser ex-_boyfriend_," he snorts. "And because I talked to Elle about it. It's just a big fucking misunderstanding. Not all guys are like Lucas, you know."

"You cheat on Peyton," she says and he can feel her shoulders lift in a shrug. It sounds like a casual statement but it still throws him off a little.

"No I don't," he says and looks down at her face. "I'm not _with_ Peyton anymore."

"I know that," she mutters, "but come on, Nate. You used to cheat on her all the time. Theresa, for one. And what was the name of that bleached bimbo from nationals? Jane?"

She doesn't sound angry or anything, just pensive, staring out at nothing at all.

His arm slides away from her shoulder and unconsciously he lifts a hand to run his fingers through her tangled hair, "So? Theresa doesn't count," he mutters. "Every guy on the team has had her on some occasion. It's like a rule. And I only got with Jane because Peyton was all over that fucking male cheerleader from Bear Creek. It's not _my_ fault that she didn't realize he was gay."

Brooke actually laughs at that and he relaxes and empties the last of the beer. His fingers are starting to get cold and he's just about to suggest going back inside – they should probably check to make sure Rachel and Owen are still alive – but then Brooke mumbles, "And then there was me, of course."

"What do you mean?" he frowns.

"You cheated on Peyton with me. I was there, _literally_, so I know."

She still doesn't sound angry, or accusing, but his fingers stop the untangling motion in the silky dark strands of her hair. He looks down again and this time, Brooke is watching him.

"That's not the same," he says, feeling a little uncomfortable. Technically he'd been on "break" from Peyton whenever he was with Brooke. "You and I were different," he shrugs because it's true, "I _always_ want to–"

He's about to say '_be with you_' but stops short of actually saying the words aloud. The realization of what had almost slipped out fucks him up on so many levels that it's enough to shut him up altogether. Because had he said it, he's not sure he would have meant it in the sexual sense. It's the closest he's ever come to acknowledging the weird feeling in his stomach when he's around her.

"What? Have sex with me?" she fills in with a smirk. "Yeah, I know. I'm hot."

He chuckles awkwardly, "Yeah, well don't get too cocky, okay?"

She laughs and some of the awkward tension disappears. For the first time in months – apart from that short moment of peace at that stupid debutante ball – they are hanging out without fighting. And it's probably better if she thinks that sex was all he'd been referring to because he can't explain to her what he had really meant, since he's not even sure himself. He's admitted to Owen on a couple of occasions that he kind of cares about Brooke and he's pretty sure that he admitted to Tyler at some point that he was jealous of Lucas for having her. Well, maybe not that directly, but at least something in that direction. And that is enough.

At least for now.

She leans her head back against his shoulder and he slowly relaxes. He goes back to playing with her hair and she pulls at a loose thread on the hem of his sweater.

"You were probably right the other day though," she offers with what sounds like nonchalance, although a little bit forced, "I mean, when you came over to Rachel's place. Like you said, I'm sure I'll be back to my _slutty _ways in no time."

His mind is still working overtime with his near confession and at first he doesn't know what she's talking about, but then his free hand raises up to smash against his face as he suddenly remembers. And just like earlier he wishes that he hadn't even gone over there that time. That whole encounter had been a complete fucking chain of wrong doings.

"_You see, Brooke? That's what's wrong with you. You need to be fucked good and proper and on a regular basis..." _

Yeah, that had surely not been one of his more charming moments. But it had just pissed him off the way she moped over Lucas and when he went over to Rachel's house to be nice to her, she'd just been such a bitch. Plus, he'd _wanted_ to fuck her that night –he usually did when she was wearing those tiny shorts– and he just couldn't admit it because he'd been afraid that she'd turn him down.

So he saved face. Went with cocky and obnoxious and threw that beautiful finish in her face.

"_I'm the only Scott in Tree Hill who does it for you. But don't worry, I'm sure you'll be back to your old self in no time."_

"I never said that," he lies through his teeth, struggling not to say _more_ things that he'll regret come morning.

"You didn't _have _to," she emphasizes and shrugs. "It was all there between the lines. And you were right, it's what I do." Her eyes flick to the light coming from the kitchen where the rest of the guys are playing cards. "Actually… if Tyler hadn't cock-blocked me earlier tonight, I probably would have slept with Chase."

Jealousy instantly sets up camp in the pit of his stomach and he scoffs in disgust.

"_Chase_? O's geeky friend that moved into _our_ old room?"

Brooke laughs and swats his leg. "Chase is not a geek, Nate. He's cute. Don't be like that."

"Whatever," he mutters bitterly and untangles himself from her so that he can get up, "you know what, Brooke? Welcome back. Go fuck whoever you want. I'm gonna go crash."

As he steps over her legs to get to the door, he does the stupid mistake to look down at her face. Her lips were parted as if she was about to say something but stopped due to his juvenile outburst. Now she looks completely startled. There's a hint of 'hurt' in her facial expression and it makes him clench his teeth and frown. Mainly because he doesn't even know why he's behaving like an asshole right now, but also because the whole charade is ridiculous.

What the hell does she have to be hurt for when she's the one who wants to screw random guys? If she wants to fuck, then why can't they just go back to their old 'arrangement?' It's not like he hasn't openly suggested it.

But most of all, he's derailed by the fact that he actually feels _bad _for snapping at her. Since when does Nathan Scott regret anything? Especially something said to a chick? He's never had the conscience to feel bad about saying shit before. Why start now? What makes _Brooke _so fucking special?

Without a word, he stomps inside and heads for the kitchen to find Tyler. The yelling from upstairs seems to have stopped and he either needs a couch to sleep on or a ride back to the Bell Tower dorms and his car. But in the doorway he collides with the annoying–and according to Brooke– 'cute' _Chase_.

"Get outta my fucking way," he grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance, "What the hell are you even _doing_ here?"

"I _live_ here," the guy chuckles, obviously amused or some shit, "And who're you? Another kid brother?"

"No, I'm the one that's about to pile drive my fist into your smart ass mouth," he scowls back and takes one threatening foot forward. It would feel so good to just punch the smirk off the damn skater-geek's face.

"Whoa! Take it easy, Prep," Tyler dodges in between him and Chase and when he still glares at Chase without even acknowledging Tyler, the running-back cringes and blows out air through his nose. "Nate, come on," he says scowling. "Don't be a punk. Back off Chase, kay? He's Owen's boy."

"I don't care whose fucking _boy_ he is," he spits more at Chase than at Tyler, "Brooke's _off_ the menu, got it?" He takes another step forward but this time Tyler puts a hand on his chest, holding him back.

"Don't start a fucking pissing-contest, Prep," he barks, probably convinced that he'd have no trouble handling an erupting fistfight since he's bigger than both of them. "Don't you think it's enough with Owen and that fucker in the corner over there?" he nods towards Puck who's now sitting on the living room couch, holding a bag of frozen mini-bagels to his jaw.

Breathing in and out between clenched teeth, Nathan watches as Chase holds his palms up in a sign of peace and chuckles. He's about to take a step forward to shut the guy up but Tyler's hand takes a firm hold of his shirt and he takes a couple of deep breaths before he finally mutters, "I'm okay. I'm calm."

But Tyler doesn't seem the least bit convinced and, turning to Chase, he more orders than suggests, "Go to bed jungle boy. And for the sake of fucking world peace? Please stay away from Brookie while I handle Mr. Muscle over here."

Chase backs up and Nathan thinks he hears him mumble something about 'unnecessary drama' but Tyler grabs the back of his t-shirt and pulls him towards the couch so he can't be sure.

"What are you _doing_, Prep?" Owen's wingman mutters and smacks him over the head, "Are you trying to get locked out of Brooke's pants forever?"

"'The _fuck_ is that supposed to mean?"

Tyler grimaces and glances towards the back door to the porch where Brooke probably still sits. "Listen kiddo," he says, "I'm all for the pussy-tour, you know that. I leave the whole relationship-thing to guys like Owen because that shit just seems way too complicated…" He glances up towards the second floor and then looks back at Nathan. "But the way you and B keep dancing around each other? That is just un-_fucking_-necessary. You can't go pissing out your territory when you guys are _not_ banging each other. And you're not going to tap that cute little ass of hers ever again if you keep pissing her off. Can't you see that the girl is hurting, huh?"

"I'd say she's done moping," he mutters and nods grumpily towards the stairs where Chase just disappeared. "She wants to hook up with geek-boy."

"With _Adams_?" Tyler chuckles, "Dude, Brooke would've humped a freakin' lamppost last night, that's how drunk she was. The only reason she went for Chase was because he wasn't properly informed about the rules in this house." He winks, "But haven't I always had your back, man? I grabbed that little lady before she could do anything stupid."

"What the fuck do I care. I told her she can fuck anyone she likes."

He knows that he's sounding like a whiny kid but it's been a long night and he had honestly hoped that it would end in a bed with a certain brunette who's currently still freezing her ass off on the back porch. It wouldn't even have had to end with sex – honestly he's too tired – but it would have been fucking nice to know that she was in _his_ bed.

Tyler rolls his eyes and groans loudly. "Jesus, what the hell is _wrong_ with you people tonight? Is it a full moon or some shit?" The running-back grabs the hem of his wifebeater and uses it when he uncaps another beer, "You know what, Nate?" he then adds, nodding, "You're right. Brooke _is_ off the menu at Sigma Nu territory. But those rules aren't so that _you_ can tap her whenever it's fucking convenient for you. Those rules are there so that I won't have to stop Owen from re-arranging anyone's face when they hurt her. And that goes for your preppy little nose as well, you got that?"

He gulps down half the Corona before handing it over to Nathan. Grabs his car-keys and his cell phone from the kitchen counter and shoves them into the pocket of his jeans before grabbing the sweater that hangs over the back of a chair.

"I'm gonna head over to the Delta Pi sorority and get me some ass from that chick with the nice rack. God knows I need it after _this_ night." He picks up a baseball cap and puts it on backwards. "You can crash in my room, and it's up to you if you wanna bring Brookie-monster. Just please don't let me get back here tomorrow to hear that you made her cry or some shit like that."

Then Tyler's cell phone goes off in some rap-song ringtone.

"Hey shorty… Yeah I'm on my way over now… Sure, you put those PJ's back on, baby. I mean it's not like I can't take them off of you again in five minutes…"

And with that, Duke's running-back disappears out the front door.

Nathan watches him go before tipping his head back, downing the rest of Tyler's beer. For a second he ponders the option of going with the guy over to Delta Pi but he's honestly too tired to be social. Plus, something tells him that this stupid new conscience of his will bug him if he just leaves a certain brunette alone out on that back-porch.

So instead he heads into the downstairs bathroom to take a leak. Then, he picks up the fallen lamp from the floor and drops his empty beer bottle in the kitchen.

When he finally gets around to opening the back door to get Brooke, the porch is empty.

---x---

His fingertip traces lazily around her belly-button, dipping into the shallow indent and making her tremble, before trailing her hipbone and disappearing down her thigh. His dark brown eyes are still intently focused on her face and Rachel licks her lips and pulls his mouth back down to her own. Kisses him languidly with soft tongue.

God, she's completely and utterly _spent_. Every bone in her body has turned into jell-o and her brain feels like mush. The last trace of anger and humiliation went away sometime around her second orgasm and now the only thing that lingers is the uncertainty. She's cynical and untrusting by nature and even though she's almost sure that the events of the night had been one big misunderstanding, she can't help but to hold on to it. The 'what if…'

She's still trying to get a grip over her labored breathing and when Owen's lips continue to graze her jawline and neck, she sucks in a mouthful of air. The way his hands keep traveling lightly over her skin isn't making the particular task of focusing very easy.

What had started out as an angry and rather rough mutual demonstration of power had soon turned into heated make-up sex. And it's not like it had surprised her, it usually ends that way when they fight. But this; the way he handles her almost reverently while she's trying to regain her baring, is new.

"_Te amo, palomita_…" he whispers just below her ear and his warm breath, combined with the raw emotion in his words, sends a whole new set of shivers through her body. "_Te amo _tanto_ mucho. Lo sabes, no_?"

He does this sometimes, talks to her in spanish, and its usually when he's upset. The weird 'little dove' nickname seems to pop up all the time but other than that it's usually just a word here and there when he's drunk and not thinking about what he's saying. But this is deliberate, soft and full of feeling, and she's been listening well enough in her spanish class to get the gist of his words.

"_Mirame_," he breathes and his hand disappears from her thigh and cups her face instead so that she's forced to meet his eyes. "_Me crees, no? No me importa lo que hizo con el__, _Raye, just tell me that you believe me… _por favor_…"

He sounds vulnerable and she bites her lip and nods before she can change her mind. There's no legitimate reason for her to do that – to believe him – but she does. She's _almost_ certain. Not only based on what that girl said but because of how he reacted tonight. How he's _still_ reacting.

His face softens when she nods, almost as if he lets out a breath of relief. "Don't do this again, Raye," he mumbles and brushes his lips against the corner of her mouth, "_En serio_… This –, I mean, these games, they fuck me up way too much…"

She lets out a shaky breath of her own and she can feel her lips part slightly. Her body seems to mold itself after his in an unconscious way and she's almost surprising herself when she responds with a submissive, "I promise."

Just the fact that she's usually never this easy to sway tells her that she actually trusts Owen more than she though.

She wraps her leg over his hip and her calf slides against his muscled thigh. Her fingers thread in his thick dark hair and before she can change her mind, she grabs a fistful and holds his head in place so that his brown eyes stare right into her hazel ones.

"I love you, Owen."

He blinks.

"_Otra vez_…" he whispers in a gritty voice, "tell me again, baby."

"I love you."

His chest is pressed tightly against hers and she can feel the tremor that runs through him just before he breathes out a strained, "Fuck, I need to have you again…"

She's completely and utterly spent, emotionally drained and tired beyond words. But she pulls him closer anyway, wraps her legs tighter around him and gladly accepts him into her body again without even trying to keep her moans silent.

Because it's true. She does love him and she's just realized how terrifying it would be to lose him.

Plus; Owen Morello is _damn_ good at what he does.

---x---

Nathan climbs the stairs to the second floor and the sounds of a certain redhead doesn't go unnoticed by him as he passes Owens door.

Well, at least _that_ fight is over, he thinks, but he can't help but to glare at the closed door to 'Chase's room'. He's pretty sure that Brooke is in there – since he couldn't find her anywhere downstairs – and it annoys the fuck out of him, even though he was the one who told her that she should go sleep with the guy if that was what she wanted. Hopefully he'll have time to fall asleep before sounds starts to come from that room as well.

Stupid jungle-boy _geek_.

What annoys him the most is that he'd stayed away from the party tonight because Rachel had said that Brooke needed some 'room' and that she was too vulnerable to be fucking around with boys. Had he known that this was the kind of 'room' she needed, then he could've been here getting drunk with the guys instead of getting tangled up in all of Elle's drama.

And he knows that he really can't be pissed off at the brunette for wanting to get laid, when the whole visit to Duke's Bell Tower had been for the purpose of banging Brenna, but he is anyway.

Mumbling out a string of annoyed curses, he pushes the door to Tyler's room open. It's dark in there and he pulls his t-shirt over his head while walking towards the bed. Throws it on the floor where Tyler's stuff is already sprinkled but leaves his jeans and wifebeater on. He's just going to get a couple of hours of shut eye before he heads back to Tree Hill. No way in hell is he staying around until when Brooke and Chase wake up.

But when he places his knee on the bed to reach the bedside lamp, he realizes that he's not alone in the room. Brooke is sleeping in Tyler's bed, comforter wrapped around her like a cocoon. And he stops mid-movement.

For a second he's not sure what to do so he leaves the light off and sits down on the empty side of the bed.

"B?" he whispers, "You awake?"

She doesn't answer and with the way he left things with her down on the porch, he's pretty sure that she will kick him in the balls if she wakes up and finds him under the covers with her as if nothing's happened. "Brooke?" he tries again a little louder, "Is it okay if I sleep in here with you?"

Usually he'd never ask. He'd just lie down without really giving a crap about whether she's okay with it or not. If this was before Lucas, he would just charm her pants off and make _sharing_ worthwhile for her. And if it was any chick other than this particular brunette, he'd just tell her to go somewhere else if the shoe didn't fit. But that damn conscience is making itself reminded. He'd gone too far when he snapped at Brooke downstairs and for once he wishes that he could just say sorry and start over.

It's just that the word 'sorry' totally goes against the image that Nathan Royal Scott tries to uphold.

She moves in her sleep and he watches as she scrunches her nose up like a little bunny and curls up into a ball. Sighing, he grabs the pillow she's not using and a blanket before starting to get up to make a bed for himself on the floor. It's going to be uncomfortable as hell and come morning his back will be stiff, but hopefully she will see it as an apology for his assy comments without him actually having to say the words.

But then a hand grabs his wrist and pulls him back down on the bed.

"Cop a feel and die," a raspy voice mumbles into the pillow and even though he's surprised, he can't help but to break into a smile. It's such a typical Brooke-comment.

"Don't worry," he whispers back and lies down on his back on top of the covers. "I'll be a perfect gentleman." He squeezes the pillow in under his head and when she says nothing else, he steals a glance at her sideways.

Dark hair is fanned out over her pillow and she's pulled the blanket all the way up to her chin. Her eyes are closed and her lips look almost puckered with the bottom lip sticking out a little. She looks fucking adorable. And of course a part of him wants to crawl in under that blanket with her and do more than just 'cop a feel'. He wasn't kidding earlier, the thought of feeling her up always sounds like a good idea in his head, but tonight he just folds one of his arms behind his head and shuts his eyes as well.

Because she won't want to make out with him and it's not like he can spoon her. They're Nathan Scott and Brooke Davis after all and cuddling isn't something that they engage in, _especially_ not with each other.

Instead he listens to her calm breaths and tries to remember if they've ever just slept beside each other like this before, without hooking up, and he quickly realizes that the answer is no. At least not while being coherent enough to be aware of it.

But then, right before he's about to drift off, Brooke's hand brushes against his on top of the bedspread and the raspy sleep-filled voice comes again.

"'Night, Nate."

"Goodnight, B," he mumbles back and before he can think about what he's doing, his fingers intertwine with hers.

It feels weirdly intimate, in a platonic way that he's not used to. It feels _different_.

What's more, she doesn't pull her hand away. And right before sleep comes, Nathan thinks about how strange it is that something as simple as that can feel like 'check mate'.

----x----

--x--

* * *

**AN**: As said at the top, this was long overdue. But it was also lengthy ;)

Question for this chapter: Did Rachel do the right thing when trusting Owen? Would you have?

Spanish translations:

_Nena – _Little girl (affectionately, like sweetie or baby)

_Calmate, chica – _Calm down, girl

_Mierda! – _Damn it

_Te amo, palomita_ – I love you, little dove.

_Te amo _tanto_ mucho. Lo sabes, no_? – I love you so much. You know that, right?

_Mirame – _Look at me

_Me crees, no? No me importa lo que hizo con el__ – _You believe me, right? I don't care what you did with him

_En serio_ – Seriously

_Outra vez_ – Again

HUGE thank you's for all the amazing reviews goes out to (in chronological order):

**pOline** – Good Nathan is lovely but bad nathan is oh so hot! LOL. Sorry that our lack of updating got you depressed, we hope to rectify that ;)

**abcdefghjklmnopqrstvwxyz** – (without the i and u) LOL Rachel/Owen has been the only constant and for now they're still good ;) and who's to say that there won't be more BL fluff? The prologue, remember? Sorry that we couldn't give you a preview and that the update took so long.

**hello there** – Glad you liked Puck's cameo and this is not the last of him. LOL we didn't even think about the Rachel/Puck thing on both glee and OTH. At least you got some Brathan this chapter ;)

**Jem** – You're right, Puck had no clue LOL and we'll get more from Chase ;) Thank you for always giving your support on this story.

**Yana** – Hun, we're so glad that you see the awesomeness that is Jake and we will give you more of that. Plus, there was no weepy Lucas in this either ;) And thank you for your understanding in the Lucas/Peyton matter. Btw, Brazilian drinks by Chase = a very nice evening!

**Fggt16** – glad to hear that you party enough LOL. Thanks for the review!

**PrettyGirlRocks** – Sorry for the lack of Brucas and brathan in the last chapter. We hope you've enjoyed this one. ;)

**CoffeWithCinnamon** – (First: we laughed our asses off at the "the other two look a little on the scrawny and awkward side" comment) Apart from that, we're sorry that the characters in the last chapter annoyed you and with all the drama in this one, they probably did again LOL. But we actually see your point on the Karen thing. Good point there. As always, we enjoy your reviews immensely.

**Love me some Julian** – We think that you have great taste in men :) and we're sorry for not letting that alert pop up in your emails sooner. Hopefully we rectified some of that with this chapter.

**Josephinee** – Stephen is yummy in a boyish way ;) so we couldn't help ourselves. And thank you for the support.

**Kay** – You're probably not reading this (we couldn't answer you any other way since you weren't signed on) but we're sorry that you feel the way you do. We never promised that this would be a BL-story and all characters in this have their flaws. Hopefully you'll find a story that is sure to end with BL together and we're sad to see you go. Thank you for reading this far.

**Rye** – LOL, hun we're probably all biased when it comes to the Peyton-situation. And we tried making up for the no-BN in last chapter by giving you this one. Ps. This is not the last you see of Puck ;)

**Elizabeth21** – BN alone time, check. Elle-situation somewhat cleared up, check. And thank you so much for reviewing.

**elle07** – sorry for the lack of Lucas in this chapter but he's still in the doghouse. We hope that we shed some light on the Elle-situation though. ;) We're also glad that you love BR. Because we do too.

**cilla05** – One update delivered, although long overdue. But with actual BN interaction so maybe you'll still read? ;)

**chasitybsp** – Do you still think that Owen impregnated Elle? LOL Thank you so much for the review.

**cheerygirl333** – I bet the parties at English Universities are dope too. And sorry that we didn't supply you with Tyler and Brooke hotness but at least they were almost in bed together ;)

**AllBrathan** – Your ass is probably really numb by now and we're so sorry LOL. Thank you for the kind words though and since this chapter had no Lucas, you might forgive us? Please?

**Sara** – Thank you so much!

**Noirreigne** – thank you. Your words about the PB scene means a lot.

**Hangover** – We know what you mean ;) Your review was a really good idea though.

**NicoleDavis92x** – Thank you so much!

**Love's Crash Test Dummy** – You're such a smart chick! There's no fooling you, not even with the Puck-thing. We're sorry for not helping you out earlier with your procrastination but this chapter was 27 pages so maybe you'll forgive us? Plus, you're right; this story is hella long and we still have a long way to go. ;)

**Julian B** – We don't know if we're older than you but if we are, then its true: Older girls does love you. Especially when you give kick ass reviews like this.

**123** – thank you

**M_rcus** – We LOVE when you're being Dr Phil! So feel free to continue, hun. How's that hunch now? Feeling better? Thank you so much for the long review, it was very insightful as always, and you'll get to know more about Kellan soon.

**albluvscbg** – sorry it took us so long to post this. We're impressed though. You're a very smart girl and it's hard to fool you ;)

**Angela** – We're so glad you enjoy Rachel and Owen and Brooke and Nathan. Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter even more because of that ;)

**OTH-Brucas-love** – thank you for those lovely words. We hope you like this chapter just as much even though it had no Lucas.

**Jasminaa** – We love that you're interested in solving the puzzle that is Elle Bishop. What's your verdict now?

**cRaZyGuRl093** – a long absence for us as well. And the Owen/Elle mystery is a little clearer, no?

**BL-CS** – sorry for the long wait. Lots had to be done.

**scribbleoutthetruth** – we will try, dear. And we're happy for the short reviews as well.

**I am addicted to your story** – One update delivered ;)

**Mila** – The story is still very much in progress. We just hit a bump that proved hard to climb. Hopefully you'll still be around to read.

**HelenItsme** – Thank you. It never gets boring to read your reviews either ;)

**AngelicaDevil** – We agree: Brathan is total hotness. And Nathan has an impact on us as well LOL. We're glad you're liking this. Thank you for reviewing.

**musicmeanslove** – Thank you!

**ealicia16**– The prologue is still far away ;) Thank you for the review.

**monLOVEE** – thank you for both of the reviews. We hope that you kept reading ;)

**:]** – We've been trying LOL, and now we're here! Thanks for missing us ;)

and also, thank you to **FALLEN HALO**, for the review from last chapter. We never got around to thanking you for that.

To all of you that have left un-signed reviews, asking questions, we hope that you understand that there's no way for us to reply to them before the next update. If you want to ask questions and get a quicker response you can always PM us and we'll get back to you with answers. Oh, and of course, we also want to give a big thank you to all of you that read this story without reviewing. We hope that you all like it even in your silence.

LOVE/

E&L


	29. Sixteen Shades of Black and Blue

This chapter is dedicated to… YOU.

Yes YOU reading this right now.

xoxo

-x-

**Chapter 28 – **Sixteen Shades of Black and Blue

**Junior Year, Spring Semester**

"_A reputation once broken may possibly be repaired, but the world will always keep their eyes on the spot where the crack was._" –Joseph Hall

-x-

_**March 1**__**9**__**th**__**, 2007**_

Sunday passed by on autopilot. She woke to an empty bed but with the lingering distinct smell of Nathan Scott. She'd know that smell anywhere. Sean John Unforgivable. His side was cold but his scent was strong enough to say that he hadn't left too long ago. She couldn't lie and say that a slight tug within her didn't occur at the thought of him leaving without at least waking her first.

'_And why the fuck would he wake you up?_' she had chastised herself. _'You didn't even want him in the bed in the first place.'  
_  
A small voice in the back of her head had wondered if that was even her choice to make now. During the time that she and Nathan had hooked up on a semi-regular basis, he had never told her to fuck someone else. And the night before? Well, Nathan had practically chucked her off on Chase.

She hadn't had time to mull over it for long though because it was right about then that Tyler's voice boomed from the hallway, "Come out for air! At least let us know if you're alive and didn't kill each other!"

She had muttered into her pillow and rolled over to her back before slipping out of Tyler's bed to join the boys out in the hall. A group had formed outside Owen's bedroom door consisting of Tyler, Chase, Mike and Charles. Her eyes had involuntarily searched for Nathan but when she didn't see him, she had pushed the thoughts aside and joined everyone as they pounded on Owen's door.

Now, Monday morning and walking across the school parking lot with Rachel, Brooke lets the insecure thoughts float back to the front of her mind. Would there be awkwardness when she first runs into Nathan? They hadn't done anything but sleep Saturday night, she's sure of that. But a part of her wonders if something else had happened to make him disappear so quickly that morning. And then another part of her wonders why she even lets any of this bother her since she clearly remembers him being a complete asshole to her on the porch before they even ended up in Tyler's bed. Frankly, she should be–

"You're overanalyzing again, B," Rachel snorts and elbows Brooke's side. "Besides, I thought you were all lesbi-gay and whatnot now? No boys, remember?"

"Before or after I stuck my tongue down Chase's throat?" she scoffs back and rolls her eyes, hefting her bag higher on her shoulder. "And I'm not overanalyzing, I'm just." she pauses and purses her lips in deep thought, "curious," she ends with a casual shrug.

She hadn't voiced her thoughts about Nathan to Rachel, at least not in so many words, but her friend is–_and has always been_–a freaking mind reader when it comes to things like this. Even in the midst of Rachel's own drama with Owen, the redhead had dug up the fact that she slept in the same bed as Nate Saturday night. And maybe she had said _something_ about how strange Nathan had been behaving about the whole Chase-thing. Not much though, and she had certainly not told the redhead about the handholding.

Yet her efforts to not spill hadn't been much use because now Rachel struggles to hold back a deep guffaw and hides a smirk behind her hand while her arm slinks around her slumped shoulders. "I know what it is, Brookie," she states matter-of-factly.

"Really?" she retorts uninterested.

Her redheaded BFF nods and puts a little pep in her step as they near campus, "Yep," she grins and throws the brunette a side glance, "it's because you thought Nathan was gonna grovel at your feet like a cute little puppy dog. But he's not, and that _bothers_ you."

"You're way off," she pulls away with a scowl but Rachel's brow just arches in mocking perfection.

"Am I? Or have I just hit a sore spot? Come on, B –it's me!" she laughs. "I know you inside and out and you can't tell me that you didn't expect Nathan to misinterpret sleeping in the same bed as the go-ahead to start openly flirting with you again."

Brooke rolls her eyes, "You're mental."

"And you're in denial, but that's okay," she pats Brooke's shoulder, "Blondie sure did a number on you. But like I've told you before, it's totally understandable to want some attention from an old flame in order to feel some self worth. It's ridiculous but at the same time it's human nature. We all want to feel wanted."

Brooke simply stares.

"What?" Rachel pauses.

"Nothing," she shakes her head, "absolutely nothing." Then she hurries ahead towards her locker, trying unsuccessfully to hide the smile that's pulling at her lips.

"Oh no!" Rachel starts after her, "I know that look! You want to mock me, huh? Well, mock away ma chérie," she calls after her retreating friend's back. "The shit you're pulling is nothing like me and Owen!"

She bursts out laughing then, because despite everything–despite how she'd actually been _worried_ about the fight between Rachel and the quarterback and how the shit with Charles' brother would affect them–one thing is for freakin' certain;

If there's anything that is predictable or 'textbook' when it comes to things like these then it's definitely the rollercoaster relationship between Owen and Rachel. They are the fucking king and queen of jealousy-games and drama.

"At least –" she laughs when her friend catches up with her, "at least make sure you pick a college guy next time, Raye… I mean, if you wanna make O jealous, then you really should–"

"As I said," Rachel grumbles and rolls her eyes, "mock away. The outcome is still the same. You're still going to hook up with him sooner or later and you know it."

"What_—ever_," she's still laughing as she flips the redhead off and starts walking towards her first class.

-x-

Later that day brings Brooke to the realization that she's approaching her 17th birthday at an alarming rate. It's only a few weeks until the big one 1-7 and she has no plans to do anything. But she's Brooke fucking Davis and a huge blow out party is expected of her.

Last year she threw a Sweet Sixteen party that pretty much blew all others right out of the water. A bash that was gushed over for the bigger part of spring. And she _should_ want to top that this year. Yet she can't bring herself to actually plan for one. Truthfully, she just wants to curl up on the couch with Rachel and watch movies while chowing down on junk food. Something guaranteed to be drama-free.

But that's not going to happen. Especially since she's still picking up the pieces of her fractured reputation as the school's 'it' girl. Rachel is right, Peyton and Lucas really did do a number on her, enough to puncture a hole in her once solid popularity streak and she can't have that. It's not that bad, just occasional whispers when she walks past lower class freshman and giggles from the sophomores. The Seniors don't really give a shit, they're too focused on the countdown to graduation and her fellow Juniors are starting to prep for prom.

PROM.

_Son of a bitch_, she curses inwardly. She'd completely forgotten about the dance and all that came with it. Junior Prom court, dance committee, dresses, shoes, limos and of course – dates.

Not going was as possible an option as her not having a party to celebrate her 17th year of roaming the Earth. Her head tilts closer to her desktop and she's about to groan and bang her forehead gently against the wood when someone kicks the back of her chair and she flies upright.

"What the fuck, Nathan?" she whirls around and hisses like a feral feline with the hairs on its back sprung out.

He juts his chin towards the front where the teacher is tapping her foot and waiting for a response.

"She's putting you on the spot," Nathan leans forward and says, his breath hot against the back of her neck. "You got an answer or what?"

She shivers and turns to the front to appease the teacher who's still pointing at the scribbled question on the whiteboard.

_What does the mockingbird represent in the book?_

"Uhm…" she mumbles and shifts in her seat. "The mockingbird…"

Shit. She has no fucking clue what the answer is. She knows what book they're discussing of course, 'To Kill A Mockingbird' has been in her locker for weeks, but since breaking up with Lucas studying hasn't been her priority. The blond Scott-brother had forced her to sit through numerous study sessions but lately she has hardly opened her books at all.

"Yes, Ms. Davis? We're waiting."

Vaguely she remembers Lucas' description of the book and its content but it's all a blur.

"Uhm…innocence?" she hesitates before clearing her throat. "Um, it represents innocence?"

Their English teacher nods her head and motions for her to continue. But she's blank once again and Nathan's presence right behind her isn't making things easier. He's still leaning in close, his foot is still right next to hers and she can feel him play nonchalantly with her hair.

"Umm…" the words die at the end of her tongue.

"Yes, Ms. Davis?" their bitch of a teacher provokes her again.

"She wants to know what happens," Nathan whispers and tugs at a stray lock of her hair. "86 the birdie and the innocence? Destroyed."

Oh.

"I, uh," she gulps the shakiness in her voice down to her stomach because now she remembers. "Which means that… um, killing the mockingbird would…" she clears her throat and sits up straighter so as to scoot away from Nathan's lingering fingertips, "would kill the innocence."

"Very good," the woman up front smiles satisfied and turns back to the whiteboard behind her.

She's a little annoyed that the teacher seems surprised that she even knew the answer and it gets worse when she spots Lucas at the front of the room, smiling gently back at her as if he's proud of her. Still, she heaves a sigh of relief and contemplates turning around to thank Nathan–who knew that he actually did the homework?–but she doesn't get the chance. As soon as the bell rings he's up and out of his seat faster than she can comprehend his absence. She frowns at his empty seat and fights to push back the thoughts of waking to an empty bed.

Shaking her thoughts clear she gets up as well and, leaving the classroom, she almost bumps into Lucas. The timid smile is back on his face and it's ironic, really. When she popped his cherry – on the night when they got drunk at Blue Post – she had been kind of worried that she was robbing him of his innocence. But instead, Lucas Scott, the backstabbing cheater, had destroyed _her_ reputation and made her look like a fool.

Seconds go by where she just stands there breathless and unsure of what to do next. Lucas stares down at her with an open gaping mouth that he snaps shut and then opens again to say whatever pathetic excuse for an apology he can muster up. But while he hesitates, she remembers who she is and why she can't allow herself to dwell in the past.

She slips past him without a second glance and flips her hair over her shoulder carelessly. Lucas represents the past and the past is no more.

There is only the future now and she doesn't have time for more of this moping.

She has a damn reputation to fix.

-x-

_**March 22**__**nd**__**, 2007**_

Prom.

It's still weeks away and everyone is fucking acting like it's this fucking Friday. He'll never understand the thrill of a school dance. Maybe back in eighth grade when there was the possibility of feeling up a post-puberty female with newly developing breasts and an ass that he couldn't tell the difference between.

He knows better now.

In fact, he knows more than he wants to know about the female body. He doesn't need a dance to cop a feel. However, if he wants to caress a certain well defined ass, he has to win prom court. Usually he could care less about these types of things. They come easy to him and winning is more of an afterthought rather than a planned mission.

But whatever, Nathan has better things to think about. Like, the fact that Dan is home and creating havoc all over again. His mother is drinking more often and the fighting is keeping him up at night. The tension in the house is winding him up so tight he feels sorry for whoever breaks him. He hopes it's Lucas, he'd enjoy slamming a fist into that idiot's face.

"Natey!" a little voice chirps from somewhere behind him and his pace in the empty hallway slows down a bit. "Wait up, silly!"

"Scott train stops for no one, Lauren," he grumbles and picks up his pace once he realizes who is following him.

"But I have to ask you something," she literally propels herself forward to slam into his side, "Nathan, stop!" she whines.

It's so fucking annoying when she does that. She might be a senior and, sure, she's hot and all, but her voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard in his ears.

"What?" he spits out, causing her flinch.

Lauren Chamberlain has never been able to take a hint, however, so she continues. "Prom," she nods, "I think you and I should go together."

He almost bursts out laughing in her face but at the last moment he goes for honesty.

"No."

"Why not?" her face falls and that nasally whiney tone comes back.

"There is not enough time in one day to lists the reasons why not, Lauren," he rolls his eyes. "And shouldn't you go with another senior?"

"I don't _want_ to go with a senior," she pouts.

"Then ask Tim? He's been stalking you for years."

The sarcasm in his suggestion flies over her head – or maybe she just chooses not to hear him. "I want to go with _you_, Nathan…" her fingers trickle up his chest and she obviously tries really hard to make her voice low and sultry. "You'd be so cute as my date…"

He cringes but, like with the sarcasm, the look of disgust on his face doesn't register in her mind as a brush off and he has to result to physically extracting her from his person. "Back off, Lauren, I'm not interested."

"But—"

"Seriously, Chamberlain?" a throaty laugh stop's Lauren's wandering hands cold. "I mean, it's one thing to throw yourself at someone—pathetic as that may be—but it's entirely another to _force _yourself on someone when they obviously don't want you," Brooke shrugs.

Lauren steps back and folds her arms over her chest, "Yeah well, _you_ would know wouldn't you?"

Brooke blinks in shock, had this bitch just talked back? Squaring her shoulders she takes a single step forward and growls, "Watch it."

"Why should I?" Lauren challenges, "I mean, it's not like you're at the top of the totem pole anymore. My, my how the mighty have fallen. Did you know we all took bets to see how long your sham of a relationship with 'Bastard Scott' would last?" she snorts back a haughty laugh. "You didn't even last long enough to give Britney a run for her money. She and K-Fed lasted longer than you and Lucas—_ouch_," she stops to wince, "that's gotta hurt."

"You little bi—"

"Whoa!" Nathan slings an arm around Brooke's waist and hefts her up into the air to swing her around and away from the blonde. It's common knowledge that Brooke and Lauren mix about as well as oil and water. Especially since Brooke had snatched the Cheer-captain title last year and proceeded to kick Lauren's untalented ass off the team.

"Easy tiger," he struggles to hold Brooke back, "Lauren? Now would be a good time to take a hint and get the fuck out of here."

"Whatever," she mutters and struts away.

"Get _off_ me," Brooke shoves him. "What the hell, Nate?"

He rubs a hand over his tired eyes, "As much as I'd love to watch a catfight? I'd rather it not involve you and some skank who is itching to climb the popularity latter. What's up with you, Davis? You're better than that."

She rolls her eyes and scoffs, "Apparently not better than Peyton."

Nathan, however, has had enough of this mopey shit and he grabs her by her arm and drags her into the nearest empty classroom. It's amazing how many teachers pick 5th period as their lounge time. If it were him he'd take the last hour of the day and head home. But that's beside the point and he shoves the struggling brunette into the room before shutting the door behind them.

The only light in the room is from the windows behind Brooke's rigid shoulders. She looks pissed and unadmittedly… it makes him kinda hot for her. _Damn her_ and those endless depths of hazel.

"We are so not fucking," she scowls.

He laughs, he can't help it. "Chill, if I wanted that from you I'd have gone for it before lunch when you kept checking out my ass in gym class."

Her eyes widen as her mouth drops open, "I did not!"

Nathan holds back another chortle, "Whatever you say, B," he shakes his head in amusement. "But that's not the point. I think it's about time for your second ass-kick back into reality. What happened, happened. Sucky as it was, it's over now. It's not about him and it's not about _her_," he motions outside the door, indicating Peyton or Lauren she has no clue but both are one and the same. "It's about _you,_ Brooke," he continues and leans casually back towards a desk, "Lauren had you with _one_ thing - your status as queen bee. You're pissed off because she pointed out that it's a little shaky in the eyes of your peers right now, no?"

"Like I give a shit," she snaps, "everyone can go and fuck themselves for all I care."

His lips twitch to form a smirk, "You're so full of it. It may not be in your top 3 interests of priority but it's on your list nonetheless. If a bimbo like Lauren can make you go fifty shades of psycho? Then I'd say you're still damn attached to that social status of yours."

"Yeah? Bitch had it coming," she stubbornly presses on because she's still angry, but

Nathan is not amused.

"Stop moping," he mutters, "I was an ass about it the first time I approached you, I admit that, but now I'm here as your friend."

She rolls her eyes which only results in him repeating himself. "Yes, I said _friend. _Don't think I can't see where you're coming from, Davis. You're me, I'm you. We deal with the same shit because we're rich and popular."

"I'm not a horny jock with a God-complex," she quips back lamely, simply to be met with Nathan's smugly raised brow.

"What's the matter, princess? Don't like my point well made?"

Like? She _fucking hates_ that he even has a point. Most of all she hates to admit that he actually _is _just like her in a lot of ways. He's the flipside of her coin. And maybe that's their problem? They're too alike. Always fighting to be in control because they can't stand to be vulnerable.

Then again, she sighs and slinks down into one of the stools behind an empty lab desk, being friends is an agreeable alternative. It would be nice to talk to someone who understands, because she can only bother Rachel so many times. Sex complicates shit anyway, no need to bring back _that _mess.

"_Friend_s," she tries the word out, already feeling like a part of her might miss the 'benefits'.

"Sounds weird, doesn't it?" he chuckles and joins her at the desk, pulling a stool out and settling down easily beside her.

She hides a smile by turning her face away to the windows, "Sounds _impossible_."

"Don't be difficult," he snorts and reaches over to tug on a lock of her hair, "I'm over here by the way. I know you have that fake glass eye that tends to roll all over but—"

"Jerk!" she laughs and punches his shoulder.

Another content chuckle escapes him, "See? We can do this. It doesn't have to be complicated and it doesn't have to _mean_ anything. It's really quite simple, Brooke. I got your back and you got mine. Just like out there in the hall a few minutes ago. You saved my ass when Lauren was crawling all over me and then I did the same to you when you were ready to attack the bitch."

Her raspy giggle does things to him that it shouldn't.

"Fine," she rolls her eyes, "call it a temporary trial period. If you can keep your hands to yourself I'll consider calling you my friend."

He snorts, "Sure, Davis. But only if you can keep your eyes off my ass."

She laughs out loud openly and fuck if it doesn't make him smile along with her.

-x-

"You sound tired, mi hijo."

His mother's voice is soft over the phone and Owen squeezes the device between his chin and shoulder while grabbing some stuff from the refrigerator to make a sandwich. He's running late and he has practice in thirty minutes, but he hasn't talked to his mom in over a week and he can't keep ducking her calls. Call him unmanly or whatever, but he actually misses her.

"I'm fine," he assures her and slaps turkey and mayo on a couple of bread slices, "I'm just juggling a lot of classes and Coach Roper's been on my ass lately."

It's the truth, but he still feels guilty for not having been home to visit since early January. Usually he goes home every other weekend or so, just to make sure that his younger sisters stay in line. But then there had been midterms and now lately, Rachel and the stuff with Elle has taken up most of his time.

Then again, it's as if he'd never left home. Women ruled and dominated his time there and they still do now all the way in Durham, NC.

"Well, school should always come first. I don't want to hear about you dropping classes for the sake of football. I have no problem with calling your Head Coach, Mr. Cutcliffe, and–"

"That won't be necessary, mom. I'm _very_ aware that I have a scholarship to uphold."

He smiles while adding slices of cheese and tomato to the halves of his sandwich and slaps them together. She reminds him of this every time they talk and if he protests and tells her that the scholarship was actually gained _because_ he plays football, then he'll receive the full guilt-trip version about how he'll be the first in his family to graduate college. Especially since Adrianne, his older sister, dropped out of law school last fall.

"Tu sabes que quiero lo major para ti," her motherly tone made him smile and nod.

"Sí, mami, lo sé." He takes a big bite out of the sandwich and changes the subject. "Cómo está mis hermanas? I haven't talked to any of them in like two weeks. Just briefly with Jacquie but she hung up on me after five minutes."

"They're all okay, cariño. Actually–" there's the sound of a door slamming followed by loud giggling and he has to press the phone to his ear to even hear what his mother is saying.

"What _is_ that noise, mom?" he complains and licks mayo from his finger before he gets it on his t-shirt.

"It's just Danielle. She has some friends with her." There's more laughter and a range of girlish and high-pitched voices chatter away on the other end. "Hola, mi amor," his mother greets his youngest sister, "There are cookies in the kitchen for you girls."

"How the hell can a bunch of thirteen year-olds sound like a flock of fuckin' hyenas?" he asks exasperated but he bites his tongue when he's instantly scolded.

"_Language_, Owen! You better not use words like that around that young lady you're seeing."

The comment makes him laugh, because honestly? _'Seeing'_ is an understatement. And Rachel – the young lady in question – has the vocabulary of a truck driver suffering from road-rage. But he still apologizes to his mom of course because when Sonia Morello says jump, he asks how high without further questions.

"Sorry, mom. But my language is usually not my biggest problem when it comes to Raye." He devours the rest of the sandwich in one bite while walking up the stairs for his gear. "She was _so_ pissed off at me last weekend that I thought we'd be over for sure."

"Hijo, what did you do?" Sonia's tone is stern and it's funny how the sound makes him cringe even though he's two states over.

"Rachel thought I was cheating on her but it was a misunderstanding."

There's no need to tell his mother that Raye had been the one to do the actual cheating. He plans on bringing his redheaded girlfriend home to meet his family at some point–as soon as he's sure that Rachel is ready for it and that his four sisters won't scare her off–and he wants his mother's view of Rachel to stay at least somewhat pristine for that occasion. Plus, she'd had _some_ reason to be all over Charlie's loser brother.

"Owen Joseph Morello!" his mom barks in her thick Mexican accent, "This has to stop! I thought that you had finally grown out of that _horrible_ behavior. When Kellan transferred to Michigan, you told me that you–"

"Mamá! It was a _misunderstanding_." He's in his room now and he haphazardly throws some clean clothes into a duffelbag so that he can go straight from practice to Tree Hill. "I didn't cheat. I'm just saying that she _thought_ I did."

A loud sigh comes through the phone, "Dios mió, Owen! Hizo algo, claro. Why else would the poor girl think that?"

"Because my big brother is a manwhore, that's why," Jacquie's voice singsongs in the background. "Your precious babyboy, and Kellan for that matter, will never change, mom, and you know it."

Oh, that little brat!

He can almost picture Jacquie's devilish wink–sometimes she and Brooke are so alike that it's scary–and he's about to demand that the phone be handed over to his snickering second-to-youngest sister so that he can tell at her to shut up, but his mother is faster.

"Jacquline Olivia! ¡Ten cuidado con lo que dices! Ay, Jesus, what did I do to deserve this?"

Jacquie yelps and starts laughing and he bets that his mother has attempted to slap her with the dishtowel or something handy like that. Then his little nephew starts crying and his mother tiredly tells Jacquline to attend to her son.

"Owen," she then sighs, "I'm going to step outside, away from your sisters, and _you_ are going to tell me exactly what happened."

_Great_…

Suddenly feeling exhausted, Owen shoulders the duffel bag and manages a better grip on his cell phone. He really doesn't have time to retell the events of that night to his mother but he doesn't want her to think badly of him either. He has changed, after all. He doesn't screw every girl he sees and he always treats women with respect, just like his mother has taught him to. So he decides to start from a different angle. He values his mom's opinion and certainly she'll understand if he just starts from the beginning?

"I met this girl named Elle," he mutters and starts down the stairs again, "and she just reminded me so much of Jacquline. She needed someone to look out for her, and I just… Hold on a sec, mom."

He frowns and stops talking as Tyler walks into the house with a little blonde that looks freakishly much like the girl he's talking about, and he nods his head at his teammate in greeting.

"Practice starts in fifteen minutes Ty," he says, "you better make that a fast 'social call.'"

Tyler just grins and a shrugs. "I'll be there, O. No worries."

And Owen doesn't worry, at least not about Tyler and the blonde. But as he heads towards his car, back to the task of explaining the situation to his mother, he makes a mental note to call and check up on Elle. After he's done with practice, of course.

Because, as of now, he's officially late.

-x-

_**March 26**__**th**__**, 2007**_

"So how _is_ the convent?" Rachel teases when they jog across the gymnasium, "Fun for you? Or at least refreshing, no? This must be your longest dry-spell ever…"

Its fourth period and they're in the middle of doing fitness-tests in gym. For most of the girls in the Junior PE class this means loud whining about exhaustion and pain but for the star cheerleader and her co-captain, it's merely a chance to get some extra exercise. The only cloud on an otherwise blue sky is the fact that for the last three days, Rachel has been driving her insane. She's convinced that Brooke is going to hook up with Nathan soon—_very _soon. Especially since her birthday is around the damn corner.

"I've told you a million times—I have _no idea_ what you're talking about," she retorts dryly and touches the far away wall with her palm before turning to run back the length of the court like Mrs. Mallory, their gym teacher, has instructed them to. And Rachel follows right behind her while letting out a chuckle.

"You know _exactly_ what I talking about, B. Other than the quick hit and run with _Nathan,_" the name comes out a whisper, "weeks ago and the make-out session with Chase, you haven't gone within three feet of a boy. What's with that? You must be going insane."

"Yeah?" she responds and motions to the redhead to pick up her pace, "Well, we can't all be sluts twenty-four seven. It's a full time job it seems." She raises her eyebrow and looks back to smirk at her friend while they run. "Tell me, how _is_ Owen by the way? Did he wear you out last night? Is that why you're running slower than my freaking grandmother?"

Actually she doesn't need to ask how Owen is. The sounds coming from upstairs while she spent last night in the Gatina guestroom had pretty much been self-explanatory and she doesn't need a recap of the late night events, but it's an easy way to turn the conversation away from herself and to get a rise out of Rachel, because honestly? The girl is kinda slow today. Plus, she knows what the redhead is trying to do.

"Don't be jealous," Rachel laughs and pats her ass while running past her, just to prove a point. "It's not my fault that I'm too hot and that Owen can't stay away from me."

She rolls her eyes in response even though she _had_ been a little jealous. It's true that this is her longest dry-spell in a while and the way Rachel keeps reminding her fifty times a day is not making things easier. But more importantly, she's also very relieved that her favorite couple is back at it. It's been over a week since the party where Rachel and Owen had come close to breaking up and the relationship between the redhead and the quarterback had been a little rocky.

During the first two days she had actually questioned if they would be okay at all, even though they seemed to have sorted out the basics of the alleged 'cheating'. Tyler had assured her that 'since they were fucking, they were fine' but she knew better. Sex was the easy part of the Gatina/Morello combo and just she'd expected Rachel take a huge step back when it came to everything else. Rachel was Rachel after all and, because of that, trust needed to be reestablished. But Owen did what Owen does best and she should have known. His persistence and constant efforts had finally won Rachel over.

Now, nine days after the party, it's apparent to Brooke that Rachel must have been trusting Owen way more than she was letting on, because even though he still hasn't come clean about what it was that he had been 'helping' that chick Elle with, her redheaded friend had let her boyfriend back in, and not just into her bed.

While running another lap, a part of Brooke wonders how this can be–since she feels like she won't ever trust a guy again after what Lucas did—but still; she's glad. She loves Owen almost like a brother and she knows that if anything Nathan had ever said was the truth, then it was his words about the older guy that night out on the porch.

"_Not O, Brooke. He's not like that. I know he didn't cheat because Owen is nothing like your loser ex-boyfriend…"_

"I'm not jealous, Raye," she laughs back and pushes her body to run faster so that she can take back the lead. "Why would I ever be jealous of yours and Owens one minute trysts? Hah! You guys are amateurs."

"One minute? Wha–"

Rachel doesn't get any further because a loud piercing whistle sounds through the gym.

"Ms. Davis and Ms. Gatina! Less chatting and more running, if you please!"

Mrs. Mallory glares at them, ready to blow her bright yellow whistle again just for emphasis, and they both muffle their laughter as they slam their hands against the opposite wall to start over in an even quicker pace.

"If anyone needs to get laid, it's that old hag," Bevin mumbles out of breath to their right and Rachel high five's their teammate in passing.

Brooke suppresses new laughter and it feels good. Feels _normal_. As if life and school and everything is finally getting back to how it's supposed to be. In the corner of her eye she sees the boys on the basketball team start spilling into the gym for their practice and Vegas lets out an appreciative catcall, followed by a loud, "That's right. Work those legs! I love my girls in great shape!"

Ignoring that it'll get her in trouble with Mrs. Mallory, Brooke pulls her 'Ravens Cheerleader' T-shirt over her head and keeps running in nothing but her sports-bra and tiny gym-shorts.

"Make sure to get a good look, Vegas!" she yells back at the boy, "It's as close as you'll ever come, _loser!_"

The sound of Nathan's masculine chuckle reaches her and when she runs past him on her way up court, she forces herself not to look his way. Normally she'd assume that he'd be smirking and checking out her ass in that cocky way of his. But nowadays she can't quite figure him out. Rachel can tease her all she wants but the truth is that she's hardly seen Nathan during the four days since they decided to be 'friends.'

"Hey, B? Catch!" he calls and she turns so that she can grab whatever it is that he throws her. And she keeps running backwards for a bit while squeezing ice cold Gatorade from the water-bottle marked 23. It's exactly what she needs after twenty minutes of constant running and she gulps it down gratefully before throwing it back to him on her way back down.

"Thanks, Nate," she smiles, silently wondering what normal really _is_ nowadays. The 'normal' actions of one Nathan Royal Scott would never include thoughtful gestures like this. _Normal_ would be him gulping down his cold drink while she panted thirstily, and rather pouring the leftovers out than sharing it with her. _Normal_ would be his hungry eyes in her direction before he went to piss off Peyton enough so that the blonde would dump him. _Normal_ would be him discretely giving her 'the nod' in an effort to get her into the sports-storage for a quickie. And normally that quickie would be very satisfying too. The only situation in which Nathan usually 'gives' is after all in bed.

But this is, of course, 'normal' situations in life pre-Lucas. Life _post_-Lucas seems to be a totally different story.

She shakes her head, feeling confused, and when the whistle sounds to signal that gym is over she stops over by the benches to regain her breath. Rachel jogs up behind her and chuckles silently. "If you ever decide to be sexually active again," the redhead offers teasingly, "I can think of someone that seems more than willing."

Knowing exactly who Rachel is talking about, she makes sure _not_ to glance at Nathan. "No thanks," she mumbles and wipes the sweat off her forehead with her discarded tank, "I'm checking into the convent, remember?"

But then everything is ruined when a familiar voice mutters right behind them, "You? In a convent? That'd be the fucking day…"

_Peyton Sawyer_.

And at that exact moment, Lucas walks out from the locker room and his puppy-dog eyes dart between herself and her curly blonde ex-friend while she gathers her things.

She shakes her head tiredly and she plans to walk straight passed Lucas and on towards the girls' locker room. But then she finds herself stopping right in front of him instead.

"Wow," she deadpans, her hands unconsciously ending up on her hips while she gives a look-over, "You know, I actually didn't think that you'd last this long on the team. It's nice of Whitey to take pity on you."

He looks hurt and it feels good. He's not really a bad ballplayer but who cares? Hit'em where it hurts – isn't that what people usually told you?

"Just don't fuck it up, Lucas," she drawls, pushing back the insecurities that just standing next to him evokes. "It's what you do best, isn't it?"

Arching her brow she then she turns away from him. In the corner of her eye she can see that he opens his mouth as if he's going to respond but nothing comes out.

She snorts and starts walking, past Rachel who smirks and raises her hand in a high five and then past the dark haired Scott.

"Good for you," Nathan mutters close behind her and his hot breath fans over her neck. For a fraction of a second she feels his fingertips feather over the naked skin on her lower back before he adds, "Bitch is a much better look for you than sappy victim."

She shrugs and throws her towel over her shoulder.

Nothing is different. Everything is normal, for sure.

-x-

He's on his way back to class from a bathroom break when he hears it. A small sniffle followed by a cough. He pauses in the middle of the hallway and tilts his head slightly and waits a couple seconds… _sniff, sniff—cough. _

_Fuck_. It's Peyton. Like clockwork the girl sniffles twice then coughs, something about nasal breathing or mucus or some shit. Bottom line is that he knows is from her. He knows because as much as she drives him mad crazy he also knows her better than anyone else. Sadly, even better than her once best friend does—_did_.

Now Nathan has two choices: 1.) keep on walking and pretend he heard nothing or 2.) round the corner and check on her. Option one is what Dan Scott would do, option two is what Lucas Scott would do.

But what would _Nathan _do?

He clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest, "Marco," he calls out and the sniffling stops. He waits a beat or two then calls out again, "_Mar-co._"

He waits for her, because never in all the time he's known her or Brooke has either of them resisted the accompanying reply to his call. Sure enough, her head peaks around the wall with a look of confusion mixed with annoyance and a hint of sadness. She doesn't like to be interrupted in her moments of self pity, he knows this and it's why he's grinning at her now.

"Marc—"

"_Polo_, you annoying dipshit," she snaps.

He rolls his eyes, drops his arms to his sides and stands taller, "What's with you?" his eyes look her over, "I must say, Peyt… it's a bit unnerving to see you show your human side in public. You must really be off your game, huh?"

Her hand flies up to wipe at her eyes as a scowl creeps it's way over her face, "What do you want?"

He pauses in shock, "No snippy come back?"

"_What_. Do. You. _Want?_" she hisses through gritted teeth.

Instead of answering he stares. She fidgets under his gaze, her eyes darting to the floor. This type of behavior is completely out of character for the blonde. In fact it's downright frightening to see a beaten Peyton Sawyer. He wonders just what exactly has brought her to this level of insecurity. She's always such a stone wall when it comes to owning up to her bitchy antics.

An annoyed sigh pushes past his lips before he reaches forward and grabs her arm to pull her down the hall. She hisses and scratches like a feral cat but she's not trying too hard to break free. That in itself is cause for exactly what he's about to do. Which is something he should have done a long time ago.

Unfortunately Nathan still sees this as part of a game he's playing. The chess board is still active and it's still just as important now as it was when it first started. It's about ownership of the board, in this case… _Tree Hill_. Even with his checkmate he still sees everything around him as part of a new game. This time it's more than about what's his.

Basketball is his. Popularity is his. Tree hill is his. Peyton is his. Brooke is… well, she's certainly not one to be categorized as an object to '_own_.' She's more like a time share unit. He had her last summer and shared her during the fall. Once winter is over he's fully prepared to grab the keys and move in once again. Spring he'll lay low, get shit in order and by summer they'll be back on. Come fall who knows, perhaps she'll find another conquest and hopefully this time it will be more worthy.

Nathan doesn't like to share. _Ever_. Sharing Peyton had never been an issue because she was his and everybody knew it. He never worried about her seeing anyone behind his back because he knew no one would dare cross him. Nathan Scott induced fear into the faintest of heart and intimidation to anyone else brave enough to hesitate.

When he cheated, which was often because let's face it… he's _Nathan Scott_, he chose girls who were easy and less likely to become clingy. He chose girls who would at the drop of a hat dump their plans for his, keeps secrets for him, and do whatever he asked—_whenever_ he asked.

Then _Brooke _happened.

As unexpected and spontaneous an occurrence, nevertheless it had its advantages. She was someone who could keep secrets, rile him up and properly bring him back down in pure satisfaction. But not once would she do as he asked without getting something in return. She was the perfect hook up because she was just as in control as he was.

He misses that. It's not often a guy can find a girl who doesn't want anything serious and can hold her own against the world. She's not an emotional mess like most and even when she is she rarely shows it in public. Brooke was Nathan's best kept secret and then _Lucas _came and fucked it up.

Now if he wants to hook up he's gonna have to work for it and then _pray to God_ she doesn't want to turn it into something serious. _Label _it. Nathan fucking hates labels, they're useless. Nobody ever sticks to one scene anyways. They're always two faced and double crossing.

"Talk," he releases Peyton's arm and stares down at her closely with arms crossed over his chest. It's his signature intimidation stance, one that he's perfected over the years. Only a select few can withstand it and they don't live in Tree Hill.

Her red rimmed eyes blink away a fresh set of tears and just when he thinks he sees her bottom lip tremble she bites down onto it and hugs her arms around herself. "What?" she mumbles with eyes downcast.

"Stop acting like a victim!" he snaps and hates that she flinches. "You're the one who proved that pony boy can't stay golden. I'd applaud you if I wasn't so sickenly disappointed. I mean, you haven't even _tried _to explain yourself."

"Fuck you, Nathan. I don't owe you a damn thing," she spits.

"So…" he squints, "_fucking _my _brother _isn't cause for an apology of any sort?"

"Please," she snorts, "like you actually care."

For a moment she actually looks at him as if searching for… for what? _Jealousy?_ No fucking way. _Say it isn't so Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer. Say you_ _didn't stage this entire stunt to get a rise out of me._ He inwardly prays.

He shakes his head at her shocked, "I thought it was just about you messing with Brooke?"

Her jaw tenses, "It's not _always _about _Brooke_," she spits the name out like a bad taste. "You know, out of everyone who praises and kisses her ass I thought you for one would be immune to it. So what? She get to you too?"

He doesn't flinch at the accusation because as stated before, he knows her. And this is a test. One that he is going to pass with flying colors. "The only thing she got out of me was an '_I told you so,_'" he shorts.

"And me?" she gulps and straightens her posture to stand taller, "What do_ I_ get from you, Nathan Scott?"

He pauses to raise a hand and touch her cheek, she leans into it and closes her eyes. Her lip trembles and her closed lashes form tiny droplets that gather into streams that run down her face. She starts crying and when her fingers graze his palm on her cheek he backs away and her eyes fly open to stare right back at him.

"You're so sad when you're desperate, Peyton. It's completely unbecoming."

A sharp intake of air that sounds more like a gasp comes from her and the hand that had touched him flies to her chest. "You really are an asshole," she whispers painfully, "you know that?"

"I won't play this game with you," he shakes his head, "I'm not Lucas. And don't you _ever_ forget that," he snaps with a sneer. "Suck in the water works, because I don't give a fuck about how you feel. What's done is done and no one made you do shit."

"Didn't you?" she whimpers. "All of you? Brooke ignores me to hang out with Rachel. You ignore me to do God knows what, and Lucas?" she shrugs, "He listened to me. No one _ever _fucking listens to me—_ever_. Not you, not Brooke, not my dad or anyone else. I feel like I'm _screaming _for someone to hear me and no one _ever _turns around to even _look _at me. I didn't _want_ Lucas, Nathan. I _never _wanted Lucas. I wanted _you_ to listen to me. I wanted _Brooke _to listen to me. But neither of you cared enough to see that."

The tears stream down her face like tiny rivers as she sobs word after word. He's never in his life seen her this worked up before. The sick part is that he's not sure if he can believe her or not. She plays games, it's what she does. It's what hedoes. It's what _they _do best.

"So…" he clears his throat and rubs the back of his head, "you're saying that you fucked Lucas to get us to listen to you?" he snorts. The very idea is fucking ridiculous.

"Yes!" she screams into his face, her small fists slapping against his chest. "I just want you to acknowledge that I'm here! I want you to stop for one fucking second and think about _me!_ I fucked Lucas because it's the only damn thing I could do to get your attention, Nathan. So tell me," she coughs and struggles to regain her control, "do I have you attention now?"

He glares at her, unable to speak due the shockwaves of guilt currently gunning through his nervous system. How the fuck does one respond to something like that? She's right, he ignored her. Kept her at his disposal for whenever he needed or wanted her. But he was so sure that she didn't care and had used him in much the same way. Any other guy she messed with he was positive was outside of town and that was fine with him.

Because as long as he couldn't see it, it wasn't there. It didn't happen.

He gulps down the shame and regret and takes a deep breath, "And Brooke?" he mumbles to her, "I'm pretty sure she didn't downright ignore you. In fact I'm pretty sure you were the one who pushed her away."

Her head shakes side to side, "She left me a long time ago," she whispers and wipes the back of a hand across her nose, "I am—_was_ nothing but an obligation to her. She spoke with me because she felt that she _had _to, but never because she _wanted_ to. She never cared enough to see that I was hurting inside because of you and because of her and because I'm probably the most fucked up person in this school…" she shrugs, "She didn't think about me then, but I can guarantee you that she sure as hell is thinking about me now."

He palms her cheek again and leans in close to whisper, "Aren't we all, Peyton Sawyer? You have our attention now," he snorts softly, "I just hope what you have to say is worth it."

-x-

_**March 30**__**th**__**, 2007**_

Sometimes it annoys the crap out of Rachel, the way that Brooke's metabolism just seems to work on overdrive. Most of the girl's diet consists of fries, pizza and ice cream and yet she still doesn't gain a single ounce – not even when she broke up with Lucas and ate her freaking weight in Ben & Jerry's. For her, it would take just one day of binging like that and it'd tip the scale.

Sure, Brooke has cheer-practice four times a week, but before Rachel moved to Tree Hill, her brunette friend had never worked out just to stay in shape. That seems to happen almost naturally even though Brooke is probably the laziest person she knows.

And it's just not like that for Rachel. No, she religiously does her forty-five minutes on the treadmill, four days a week. Works through crunches and lunges and all that other shit that keeps her waist slim and thighs firm. Owen says she doesn't need it – that she could even benefit from a little more 'cushion for the pushing' – but she never waivers from her routine. Being the chunky kid is _not_ something she wants to go back to. Ever again.

That's why she makes damn sure to eat at least semi-healthy, and why her father turned one of the rooms in the house into a fully equipped gym. And a big reason to why she can't be mad at Brooke for effortlessly having that kind of abs and ass is because on every occasion that her friend is in the Gatina house when its 'gym time', she always gets changed and joins Rachel for the daily one-hour workout – even though Brooke doesn't get much done.

It's Brooke's way of showing support, knowing that Rachel was the fat kid once. They don't talk about it though and she'd _never_ tell Owen. She understands that it's a closed chapter in the life of Rachel Gatina.

All in the same way that she would never mentions how Brooke's parents don't seem to care jack shit about their only daughter. Or about how obvious it is that Brooke still adores her father despite of his absence and sometimes blatant nonchalance. Rachel knows that Mr. Davis cares in his own way and even though he doesn't check on Brooke as often as her own father does, it's still there.

Mrs. Davis – Victoria – is a completely different story though.

One that Brooke doesn't want aired to their friends.

It's like a silent agreement between them. They don't talk about the fact that Victoria probably wishes that Brooke was never born and they don't talk about fatcamp. Instead Brooke works out with her even though she doesn't need it and Rachel never asks why Brooke spends six out of the week's seven nights at the Gatina house.

Hoe's over Bro's and all that jazz. Easy – but still incredibly complicated.

She's thirty-nine minutes into her run when her iPod runs out of battery. As the music stops she suddenly hears Brooke talking. Apparently she's given up on her weird yoga exercises and is now busy yapping away on the phone.

"Seriously, Bev, it's over a month left."

She instantly frowns because something is off with the tone of Brooke's voice. She sounds really annoyed – usually she has an almost angelic patience with Bevin's weirdness – and a moment ago, Brooke's mood had been fine. Now it sounds as if her brunette friend rather slit her wrists than have this conversation.

She slows the tempo of her run to a fast walk and pulls the iPod from her ears.

"I know that people are expecting a party, Bevin!" Brooke snaps and squirms on her yoga mat as if feeling cornered. "And I always throw one, don't I? So why are you being such a spaz?"

From what Rachel can gather, the conversation is about Brooke's upcoming birthday – a day that Brooke normally is annoyingly excited about. The annual Brooke Davis birthday-bash is the most eagerly awaited party of the year. This year however, it's a party that the dimpled brunette hasn't even wanted to acknowledge up until this moment. Sure, like Brooke said, there's still over a month left, but normally Brooke starts planning this event months prior to it actually occurring.

"What do you mean 'drifting'?" Brooke questions with a frown and Rachel keeps walking, face turned forward not to clue Brooke in on the fact that she's eavesdropping, but she keeps glancing at the younger girl through the corner of her eye. And when the brunette's eyes narrow and she hisses, "Who said that?", then she ignores that there's still two minutes left of her running-time and stops the treadmill to a complete halt.

"Well, you shouldn't listen to bitches like Lauren, okay?" Brooke snaps, now with the last of her patience gone and the anger and frustration evident on her face. "I don't give a flying fuck what the sophomores in your French class are saying, Bev. I'm not _drifting_ and I'm not losing my touch."

"Hang up the phone, B," she says and wipes her forehead, but Brooke doesn't seem to even hear her.

"No, Bevin! I wasn't _drifting_ when I was with Lucas and I'm not drifting now! Just because I don–"

She reaches out and snatches the cell phone out of Brooke's hand, offers a quick "We'll call you back Bev," to the stuttering girl on the other end, and glares at her favorite brunette who's still in lotus-position.

"May I ask why the fuck you're being a bitch to Bevin? Why do you sounds so pissed about your own birthday party?"

Brooke glares back, looking upset but also guilty and a little embarrassed. "Bevin has been nagging about the party all week," she mutters in response, "and I haven't had the heart to tell her that I didn't plan for one…"

"And now you want to have one?" she asks and sits down on the treadmill. "Is that it?"

"No, not really. I thought that I could just skip it but I _have_ to have one now, at least if I want to keep my social status. Bevin says that according to the girls on the squad 'I'm drifting'." Brooke highlights the last two words with air-quotes and she suddenly looks tired. As if it's dawning on her that she can't stay anti-social forever and that she has to step back up to the plate. And Rachel feels for her, really she does. But the way that Brooke words the entire thing still makes her itch.

"What do you mean 'have to'?" she squats next to Brooke on the mat. "If you want, we can just stay in and get piss-drunk and watch chick-flicks. No one's is forcing you to have a party. It's _your_ birthday, sweetie."

Brooke's bottom lip juts out–unconsciously–to create the infamous B. Davis pout–and Rachel knows that there's more to this. "So what was that stuff about Lauren?" she questions.

"Nothing… I just kind of bumped into that bitch yesterday. She was clinging on to Nate, begging him to go to prom with her, and before you say anything–", her chin raises a couple of inches, making her look even more stubborn, "–I'm _not_ jealous!"

Okay, that statement is so untrue that its almost funny! But as a good friend she agrees good-naturedly, "Whatever you say, B. You're not jealous."

"I'm _not_. But I told her to stop being such a desperate skank and she flipped out and basically told me that I was evicted from the 'inner circle'. And now Bevin says that she's going around school talking about how I'm losing my touch."

Rachel listens more or less patiently while Brooke retells what happened in the corridor and she's pretty sure that her friend is leaving out some juicy Nathan-related information. But at the moment she lets it slide because she's much too busy being pissed off at Lauren Chamberlain. Actually, she's a little disappointed at Brooke as well.

"Okay," she mutters when the brunette finishes, "you know that you're being ridiculous, right?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Because you're making it sound as if Lucas, or even Lauren, could somehow ruin your social status and that's just utter bullshit. You _made_ Lucas and Lauren is just a stupid hick-town chick who's jealous that a younger girl took a spot that she wanted. She couldn't touch you with a six foot pole."

By now Brooke hangs her head and she hates that her friend doesn't seem to believe her. "B, come on," she presses, "Please tell me that you're not taking this shit seriously? It's Lauren! We _laugh_ at Lauren daily!"

"But she's right," Brooke mutters and picks a loose thread from her tank top. "Lucas cheated on me, Peyton fucking _backstabbed_ me, and I did nothing about it. I just stuck my head in the sand like a freaking coward and moped for what? A month?" A hint of anger sparks from the brunette, "I don't feel like throwing a stupid birthday party but if I don't, then what? Everybody is going to think that Luke broke me and that bitches like Lauren are right."

Rachel snorts. "Oh, shut up. No one is going to think anything unless you _want_ them to." She reaches out her hand, palm up, "Give me your phone, bitch."

"Why?"

Brooke looks suspicious and she almost laughs. Actually she just had a great idea – one that she can't wait to get started on – but for it to work, she's going to have to get Brooke out of this funk and fast.

"I'm just going to hold on to it until you're done being a martyr. If you don't want to plan a party, you don't have to plan a party," she smirks and beckons for the cell phone a second time. "As a matter of fact, it's probably a much better statement if you don't throw a party at all."

"Huh?"

"Think about it, Brookie. What better way to say 'fuck you' to your snickering little peers than to rob them of the season's greatest party? People have waited for your birthday bash since the day after your sweet sixteen." She transforms her smirk to a more evil grin. "Imagine how they'll feel when you tell them that you're not giving them the opportunity to worship you this year."

Brooke doesn't even look close to sure about this but at least she hands her iphone over.

"So what do we do instead?" she questions as Rachel gets back onto the treadmill. "You think we can just hang out at your house on my birthday?"

There's a slight hint of disappointment in Brooke's voice and Rachel knows that deep inside her friend still wants to celebrate the day in question. And of course they're going to celebrate, but pretending like they won't will be good for two reasons.

1, It will be good for the little brats in school to remember that popular people like herself and Brooke are Gods in the way that they can both 'giveth' and 'taketh' and 2, it can be beneficial for Brooke to remember that moping makes for really crappy parties. If Brooke thinks that she won't get a birthday bash, then she might actually have fun when the event miraculously occurs.

"We can do whatever you want, slutface," she says winking, and starts to jog again. "Now if you're not gonna workout, can you at least go get me some water?"

She needs the brunette to leave so that she can call Bevin and do some serious damage control. It's probably stupid to inform Bevin –everyone knows that Bevin and Tim are the last people you should tell if you want to keep something a secret–but it can't be helped.

Otherwise Bevin's worries might ruin the entire surprise party she's planning.

-x-

The sun has already laid to rest and the moon hangs high in the sky amongst somber clouds of dark grey. They match his mood. He's been home for about an hour now and already he wants to leave. Why does he want to leave exactly?

"_I am so sick of having the _same _damn argument over and over, Deb! I'm going to your pointless therapy sessions. You've dragged my son from basketball to go as well and—"_

"_He is _my _son too!" _his mother's voice grows shaky as their argument continues and Dan soon dominates the fight with his aggressive words.

Therapy is a waste of time and money. His parents will always share irreconcilable differences. There was no fixing that.

"_Now you see, that is where you are wrong. Nathan is and will always be _my _son. _I _raised him, _I _coached him, _ I _put food in his mouth and a roof over his head. What the hell do you do, Deb? Other than make a mockery of this family? I should have never chose you over Karen," _he starts with the final blows that always manage to finally derail his mother into a sobbing drunk mess.

"_You have no right to talk to me like that!" _Deb screams.

"_I own you! I can talk to you however I see—"_

The sound of Nathan's phone buzzing draws his attention elsewhere. He checks his new text message to see yet another prom offer. This now makes offer number six—_this week. _Usually Nathan prides himself on his ability to keep the ladies wanting more, but lately it's gotten ridiculous.

He immediately deletes the message without replying and he knows that's a pretty douche thing to do but _fuck_. These girls just don't take no for an answer. It's the senior girls that are the worst. Not only do they not understand the concept of no, they act as if he'd declined Megan Fox or something. Just because they were seniors did not guarantee they were hot and/or willing to put out.

Take Lauren Chamberlin for example, the girl not only thought she was the second coming, she also thought she was the hottest girl in school. Newsflash, she wasn't. She wasn't even the second or third. In fact, she wasn't even in the top five.

But it _was _funny to watch her ruffle Brooke's feathers. It's rare to see her lose her cool (with anyone but himself that is) and even rarer for her to expose her weak side. Yes, he'd heard the rumors about her 'drifting' or whatever for weeks now. He'd just never thought it'd have such an effect on the brunette.

_Beep! Beep!_

Hey Nate, you got a date to your Jr. Prom yet? –Michelle

He sighs. Another senior. At least Michelle's hotter than the others, she's definitely top five on the hotness scale. He actually finds it hard to believe that he doesn't jump at the chance to get senior ass, but he feels bored with everything that is Tree Hill. Everyone is so predictable. There is no mystery when it came to dating anymore, no expectations , no fresh starts or lust filled periods of ecstasy…

_Beep! Beep! _

I'm supposed to ask if you have a date yet to prom. Theresa wants to know. –Bevin

_Beep! Beep!_

Whoops! I wasn't supposed to tell you it was for her! –Bevin

He laughs softly to himself and presses the buttons to tells her he's got a full plate and hasn't made any definite decisions yet. He doesn't tell her that he'd rather go alone than with Theresa, it's tempting, but he resists. No need to stir up trouble, especially if Bevin would be the mouth that carried the message along. Lord knows what story she'd come up with that had nothing to do with what he'd said. She'd done it before—many times, until he'd finally learned to just keep his trap shut when around her.

Glass breaking downstairs tears through his ears and he pulls his earplugs out to sit up in bed and contemplate if he should interfere or not. He rarely leaves his room when his parents are smack dab in the middle of a fight, but sometimes it was necessary. Like the time his mom was ready to stab Dan with a kitchen knife. Or the time Dan had his hands around her throat and was threatening to end her right there in the living room. That was a wonderful way to wake up on his birthday last year—the sound of choking.

"_I swear to God I will divorce you!" _his mother's shrill cry makes him cringe.

"_Do it! I dare you! Go on, for once in your pathetic life follow through on a threat!" _Dan taunted her like he always did.

"_I hate you," _his mother's defeated sob caused him to inch closer to the edge of the bed as he prepared himself to go downstairs.

"_Please don't cry. My respect for you plummets when you do." _

"_Respect?" _she shouted, all traces of sorrow now gone. _"You wouldn't understand the concept of respect if I threw a fucking dictionary at your head!" _another glass was thrown and Nathan fell back onto his pillows.

He plugs his ears in again, scroll through his playlists and selects the one titled, 'DJ Nobody' and presses play. The sounds from artists like Kanye West, Nas and Jay-Z fill his ears and he closes his eyes and relaxes. It's been a long week, an even longer day and as he looks through his phone idly, he wonders if she should even bother with Prom at all.

There is no one he can think of that he even _wants _to go with. Everyone is boring and those who are tolerable are either taken or not an option. He doesn't dare entertain the idea of asking Brooke. They're too new in their 'friendship' or whatever, no matter how easy her company is he knows they can't go together. He also knows that it doesn't bother him all too much that they can't go together.

Because lately, even _Brooke _is predictable. Why does he feel like he's suffocating in Tree Hill? Everything is too familiar, so solid and unchanging. He even knows Peyton will boycott prom this year like she does every other dance. She definitely won't attend this year because the only reasons she ever went before were because Brooke dragged her. He chuckles at the memory.

_Beep! Beep! _

WTF Nathan? Are we going or not? –Lauren

He responds immediately with: _No. _

He really needs to find a damn date so he get all these annoying chicks off his back. There's still a month to go before the formal but it's a good idea to lock his date down now. He just wants someone low maintenance and with even lower expectations of him. He wants someone who knows not to expect romance and flowers and hugs and kisses. Is that too damn much to ask?

_Beep! Beep! _

What uppers Prep? –Tyler

He responds with: _Bored. _

Then he sees a text he must have overlooked earlier. It was sent over an hour ago when he was knee deep in the sounds of his parents loudest shouts. It's from Peyton and it says one word, but it's that _one _word that shocks the hell out of him.

_Prom? _–Peyton

He responds with an equally baffling—yet sensible: _Sure_.

Who the fuck else knows him more and expects less then Peyton Sawyer?

"_I wanna act ballerific, like it's all terrific_…" a line from one of Kanye's songs off his College Dropout album makes him smirk. That's exactly what he'll do.

Even if he has to fake it.

-x-

**AN:** What can we say that hasn't been said? What can we do that hasn't already been done? Life got crazy—it's STILL crazy—but we still managed to spit this out for you guys. We wish we could name you all individually and send you sweet love, but alas, we barely have time to sleep. Just know that we love you and we appreciate you.

We promise to finish this fic, no matter how long it takes. If you're still around, shit… you're awesome.

xoxo


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